


At Sixes and Sevens

by TheDogzLife



Series: Squid Story [3]
Category: Splatoon
Genre: F/F, Gen, almost every character is lgbt in some way, also a lot of OCs, also the floodgates were opened because faye swears even more than pearl I am so sorry, some pearlina but it's more background
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:42:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 40
Words: 241,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25783066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDogzLife/pseuds/TheDogzLife
Summary: Freeing the remaining octolings from Octavio’s control is quite possibly the most important mission in the history of the New Squidbeak Splatoon – and Agent 3 was not invited.Faye doesn’t want to let go of the biggest achievement in her life. Suffering the after-effects of an incident in Kamabo won’t stop her. Unfortunately for her, it’s not just her own health that wants to keep her down.One young octoling couldn’t possibly pose that much of a threat, though, right?
Relationships: Agent 3/Marie (Splatoon)
Series: Squid Story [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1344262
Comments: 307
Kudos: 90





	1. The Worst Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome!! After 14 months I've finally finished writing this story, which means I can post it at last! Updates will be on Mondays and Thursdays as before, it just gets a special start today because it's 8/8, and I've been referring to this fic as octo story all this time :]
> 
> Before anything else I'd just like to mention that this story is part of a series and intended to be read in order! There will be many details you won't understand otherwise. Mondegreen Melody is the main (squid) story, but this fic also takes place ~2 weeks after the end of The Magic Number and the events of that short story are important, especially here at the beginning!
> 
> I will try my best to tag content warnings for individual chapters, but some major ones that occur throughout the story are: manipulation/abuse, physical/mental illness, mentions of past drug/alcohol abuse (not by any major and/or young characters), some blood/violence, and general Moral Ambiguity for one character in particular. Take care!

There was no celebration, and she didn’t expect one. That was what generally happened when you didn’t tell anyone it was your birthday.

Faye shrugged on her luminescent hero jacket for the sole reason of it functioning as an extra layer of clothing. It was January 7th; given the chill in the air, Inkopolis was likely to be hit by another round of snow any day now, and the only shelter the old shack at Octo Valley offered would be from the wind and flakes. How the Captain had survived in this place in his old age with no heating was beyond her, and she found herself hoping that wherever he’d decided to reside within the Deepsea Metro now was a lot warmer than the surface.

One of the old misty shed-like windows of the cabin betrayed her reflection to her; mostly the bright yellow of her hair and jacket was visible, like a ghost on the foggy surface. It was near impossible to see the scar on the dark skin of her face, and Faye caught herself staring for a long moment.

Agent 3. If she let her mind wander long enough, she could almost forget about everything that’d happened in the past year, and imagine she was still looking at the 16-year-old who’d taken on an army almost single-handed and _won_ , the New Squidbeak Splatoon’s top agent, a squid at the peak of health and agility.

If she let her mind wander long enough, she’d start to get a headache and remember exactly why things had changed.

She may have still been Agent 3 in identity, but now she felt far from the talented kid she’d been praised for. Just today, she’d turned 19, and she couldn’t go a week without experiencing a crippling migraine even if she didn’t push herself at all.

Her depressing thoughts were interrupted by a rattling from the grate outside. Faye frowned. Not many people knew about this place, and the captain rarely visited even though he was, technically, the owner of this shack. He’d let her stay here to recover from the Kamabo incident half a year ago, but he hadn’t kicked her out yet, and Faye was content to remain here until he did. She wasn’t keen on returning to her mother’s house, and she couldn’t afford her own place.

Faye, cautiously watching the grate through the window and out of sight, cast a glance to where her heroshot lay in the corner. Its shiny black casing was starting to collect a layer of dust. The last time she’d needed to use it was when she’d helped fight Octavio down in the octo city, many months ago. Hopefully it’d still function correctly if she needed it.

Her concern was short-lived. A blob of octopus-shaped pink hopped from the secret tunnel, quickly mutating until it formed into the familiar shape of an octoling.

_It’s just Eight._ Faye breathed a sigh of relief, feeling a little embarrassed by her caution now. Of course it was Eight; until just a few weeks ago she’d lived here too, until she finally found a proper home in the city with her new teammates. Hopefully things were going okay; Faye hadn’t heard much from her after the first few days. So much for being her best friend…

Giving her head a small shake, Faye marched to the rickety front door and opened it before Eight had the chance to knock, causing the rusted hinges to shriek a little in protest. The octoling blinked in surprise, drawing her hand back, and after a moment she raised it in a small wave. “Hello!”

“Hey.” Even after many months, Faye still wasn’t great at holding conversation. “Uh… what brings you here? You doing alright?” 

Eight watched her for a moment, the tendrils of her shoulder-length hair twitching ever so slightly like they always did when she was thinking. Was she remembering the inkling words to respond with, or preoccupied with the fact that Faye was wearing her agent jacket? “Yes, my team is doing great! I’m wondering if you know the way to the…” Her eyes narrowed a little as she tried to remember a name. “Tentakrill Outpost…?”

_Of course she didn’t come all this way just to see me._ Faye fought back the small pang of hurt. _It’s not like I’m great company anyway._ “Tentakeel?” she corrected, raising an eyebrow. “Why?”

“The Captain asked me to go there, but I was realising this morning I don’t actually know the way.” Eight shuffled her feet a little. In the cold weather, she’d traded her usual shorts and skirt for leggings. “Pearl and Marina already left.”

“He called them there too?” That awful feeling kept growing. “What’s happening?” Everyone involved with the Kamabo mission was there except her?

“Uh… Operation Calamari? I think that is what he was calling it.”

_Operation Calamari. The mission to free the rest of the octolings from Octavio’s control._ “That’s today? I never heard about it.” Faye forced herself to keep a straight face.

_The most important mission in months, and they didn’t even tell me._

“Well…” Eight pressed her thumbs together, not making eye contact – not that she often _did_ , but she was going more out of her way to avoid it than usual, gaze fixed on the plants lining the base of the building’s walls. “Maybe he forgot? Pearl says old people have bad memories…”

That wasn’t the reason why, and Eight knew that. The Captain may have been a little… _odd_ , but he didn’t forget important mission details, and he definitely didn’t forget _her_. Faye shoved her hands into her pockets so that Eight wouldn’t see her fists clenching in frustration. “Yeah, maybe. I’ll show you the way there, lemme just grab something first.”

“Thank you!” Eight looked a little relieved that Faye hadn’t pressed the subject further. She didn’t try to follow her into the building as Faye ducked away into the corner.

_The Captain hasn’t even seen me in months. He doesn’t get to decide if I’m useless to the Squidbeak Splatoon just because of an injury I got last year._ Faye tugged her cape from where it lay amongst a pile of old fishing tackle, no doubt adding another tear to its edges in the process, and bundled her heroshot and headset inside it so that nobody would see her carrying an illegal weapon as they passed through town. She kicked off the tatty trainers she’d been wearing inside the house – you always needed shoes in here unless you wanted splinters in your feet – and replaced them with her agent shoes.

Faye grabbed the edge of her cape bundle and headed out the door, slamming it behind her and causing Eight to jump a little at the noise. There was no lock on this place, but there was nothing worth stealing anyway, unless someone desperately wanted to make crabby cakes. “Okay, let’s go.”

Eight saw what she was carrying, and her eyes rounded a little with an emotion Faye couldn’t read, but she said nothing about it and followed wordlessly after her friend.

* * *

It didn’t take long to walk to the entrance to Octo Canyon, and Faye had a feeling Eight knew it would’ve been a lot easier for her to give the obvious direction of “grate on the edge of the square” rather than guide her there personally. The octoling wasn’t doing anything to stop her, though, so at the very least there weren’t any orders to _prevent_ Agent 3 from showing up to this. Faye motioned for Eight to jump through the grate first, and once she was out of sight, quickly glanced around before throwing on her headset and cape and diving in after her in squid form.

There was quite a crowd at the outpost. Marina had taken one half of the bench outside the cabin, typing away at something on her laptop and surrounded by various gadgets Faye couldn’t even begin to name. Pearl sat in front of her, leaning back against her girlfriend’s knees, and Cap’n Cuttlefish was perched beside the octoling, his eyes seeming rounder than usual as he watched whatever Marina was doing, as if he was trying his hardest to understand the technology. Eight headed straight for the familiar group, which prompted Pearl to reach up one hand for a fistbump.

They weren’t the only ones here, though, to Faye’s surprise. Marie was stood at the door of the cabin, one hand resting on the hilt of her charger, and the shape of Callie was just about visible as she rummaged around inside the building as if looking for something. Four was here, too, splayed out across the old weather-beaten couch as if he was in his own living room, and, perhaps the most unexpected of all, was the small blue inkling sat on the sofa’s arm; Agent 4’s little brother, who’d been missing a limb the last time Faye saw him. It had been long enough since then for it to completely regrow.

The whole New Squidbeak Splatoon was here and then some. Faye really was the only one who hadn’t been invited along to this. She felt a fierce resentment burning within her, but pushed it aside. _I’m not going to throw a tantrum like an annoying child just because I wasn’t called for a mission._

“Oh, Agent 3!” The Captain was the first to notice her, his ancient bamboozler cane nearly falling from his shaky grip as he lifted his head and pushed his glasses closer to his face. “What brings you here?”

_What do you think!?_ Faye held her tongue as she approached. “I heard about the mission from Agent 8. I’m here to help.”

“I thought I dismissed you from agent duties.” Cuttlefish tapped his beard with one hand and his cane against the ground with the other, looking confused. “Did I? I thought I did. Agent 2? Did I do that?”

“Huh?” Marie had been looking in their direction but blinked in confusion as she was addressed, as if she hadn’t really been paying attention to what was being said. “Uh—I dunno, Gramps, did you?”

“That is a good question,” he hummed to himself.

“You dismissed her so she could rest,” Marina said quietly, not taking her eyes off the screen as she briefly paused in her typing to speak.

Faye frowned at her, even though the action wasn’t seen.

“Oh! So I did.” The Captain nodded assuredly. “There you go! Never fear, Agent 3, we can handle this. You can just… _chillax_.” He wiggled one hand flat in the air in front of him, as if he thought he was being cool.

“ _Why_ would you use that word!?” Pearl groaned overdramatically, pretty much vocalising Faye’s internal thoughts. “Stop being down with the kids, old man, it’s _weird_!”

“Maybe you just cannot handle my totally radical sling!” He adjusted his back-turned hat a little, turning his head up at the young squid.

“It’s _slang_ , dude. A sling is what you’re gonna need if you keep straining yourself tryin’a be cool.”

“Oh, dear cod.” Marie held a hand over her face in second-hand embarrassment.

“I’m fine now,” Faye assured, ignoring their bickering. “I don’t need to—I’m not using that word.” Pearl gave her a thumbs-up. She ignored it. “You’ll need extra help for a big mission.”

Cuttlefish rested both hands on his cane, watching her with a discerning eye for a long moment. “Eh, seems logical. The more the merrier!” His cheeks pulled up a little, evidence of a friendly smile that was hidden behind his facial hair. “What were we waiting for again?”

“Transfer’s almost done,” Marina stated, and Faye could only assume the others had context for what she was talking about. “We’re still waiting on Sheldon, though. I left most of my gear with him in the truck.”

“I don’t think you’ll be able to get a truck down into the octarian’s stronghold, lass,” the Captain warned.

“Oh, boy, you are sure gonna have a surprise,” Pearl snickered. “Anyone got a defibrillator?”

“Pearl!” Marie snapped, not amused by such a joke being made about her grandfather. She’d been rummaging through a box just inside the door of the cabin, and threw the first non-fragile object she found at the short rapper – which was just an old rag.

Pearl fought with the material for a moment as if it were an attacker before flinging it away. “Hey!” She glared at Marie; it was returned full-force.

“Pearlie, please.” Marina reached one arm around her laptop to pat her girlfriend’s head. Leaving her intervening at that, she returned focus to the screen, tapping her fingers impatiently against the base of the keyboard. One hand hovered over a USB sticking out from one of the ports; then she clicked something and removed it, holding it securely in one hand. “Okay, it’s copied. I can take over Octavio’s radio system so we can broadcast the Calamari Inkantation throughout the city, but his tech is too powerful for me to do that remotely. I _should_ be able to get a wireless connection through if someone can plug this into one of the main computers, though.” She waved her hand for emphasis, the small device safely enclosed in her green-tipped fingers.

“Ooh, a _stealth_ _mission_ ,” Pearl cooed. “Rad.”

“I can do it,” Faye offered. She had snuck into the octo city once before, with Eight, and that had been only a month or so after the Tartar incident. She was sure she could do it again. _I can help. Let me help with the mission._

“Don’t worry; Agent 4 has already volunteered!” the Captain said cheerfully.

“ _Four_!?” Faye took a step back, giving him an incredulous glance. “How is _he_ stealthy? He has a _roller_!”

“Oh hey, Sheldon’s here!” Pearl called out, interrupting them.

“He is?” Cuttlefish looked around for a moment before his confused gaze fell on Pearl, and followed where she was watching – and then his eyes flew wide at the sight of the flying splatfest truck approaching over the rim of the canyon. “Great galloping grasshoppers, that _is_ a truck!” He remained fixated on the unusual object for a long moment before he registered Faye’s disbelieving glare. “Oh, never fear, Agent 3! Agent 2 assures me we’re in very capable hands, and I trust her judgement!” He shakily hoisted himself to his feet, prompting Marina to offer him a hand that went ignored.

Faye watched as the Captain led the way to a more open part of the outpost, followed by Pearl and Marina who were probably just humouring him as their leader given his slow walking speed. Feeling her hands unconsciously ball into fists again, Faye’s gaze snapped to Marie, who seemed to shrink a little as soon as she noticed. “ _Really_? Agent 4? You might as well just send the Captain!”

Marie shuffled her feet, absent-mindedly running her thumb over the frame of the headphones she’d pulled out of the box. “Agent 4 knows what he’s doing. We could’ve sent Agent 8, but we don’t have communication gear that fits properly over her ears—”

“You could’ve sent _me_!” Faye tried to force the hurt out of her voice. Of all people to forget about her, Marie stung the most. Perhaps that was what she got for dropping her guard and thinking she could actually _mean_ _something_ to a famous pop star, of all people, secret life or not.

“I know, I just—I didn’t think— I thought you wouldn’t be going.” Marie’s gaze was fixed on the floor as she spoke, her voice so quiet that Faye’s ears twitched just trying to understand her.

“Oh, _thanks_. I’m so glad I was kicked out of the Splatoon so easily.”

“We didn’t kick you out, it’s just—”

“It sure _feels_ like it when I’m the _only_ _one_ who isn’t told about a mission!”

“Hey!” Callie emerged from the cabin at last, roller in hand – and squeaked in surprise when she caught it on the door frame. It was actually impressive the old place didn’t crumble just from that hit. Righting herself, Callie quickly shook her head and put a free arm around her cousin’s shoulders, giving her a reassuring shake that only made Marie shrug her off. “Cut her a break, okay? We just thought you wouldn’t want to get involved after what happened last month.”

Faye’s anger petered out for a moment in confusion. “Last month?” She hadn’t been aware of any agent work in anywhere that would be considered that time.

“When you collapsed during a match. It’d be a lot worse if that happened in the octarians’ base, y’know?” Callie explained, setting her roller down in front of her and resting her arms on the handle in a similar way to the Captain.

“But how did you—” _You weren’t there._ Faye’s mind went blank as it clicked, and she turned on Marie, eyes blazing with anger. “You _told_ her!?”

Marie startled as if she’d just been attacked. “Of course I did, I was worried about—”

“Well, _great_! No wonder the whole Splatoon thinks I’m useless now!” Not giving Marie a chance to explain herself, or really caring to hear it, Faye turned and stormed off, glad her outburst had been drowned out for the others by the racket of the truck landing.

She took her place near the gathered group; only Eight seemed to notice her foul mood, and reached out a hand as if to try and touch her shoulder, but Faye drew back before she could. She didn’t want anyone _pitying_ her. More than ever, she yearned for the old agent days, when she could just go out and get a job done, and do it _alone_.

Already she could feel a mild headache pulsing in her temples. This day just kept getting worse. _Happy birthday to me!_

* * *

After a bumpy ride which felt like forever but was really only five minutes, of everyone crammed into the back of a splatfest truck and trying to stop anything getting damaged by Sheldon’s out-of-practice truck-flying, they finally touched down on the rim outside the large circular door to the biggest dome of Cephalon HQ. Marina fought her way out of the cramped space, followed by Agent 4, as they went to make a path in. The octoling could open the gate for the truck to fly down, but they didn’t want to draw attention until Four had that device in place; it had been a long time since they were here last, and nobody knew if Octavio was back.

At least, that was what Faye knew. There could’ve been a whole influx of secret info about Octavio, revealing his exact location and status and favourite sandwich filling, and apparently nobody would tell her anything.

The little blue kid – Jake? Agent 26.5? Whoever he was supposed to be – stepped out onto the ramp before Callie reached out to grab his arm and prevent him from going any further, as if she suspected he was in danger just from the outside air. He shot her a brief glance before turning back to his brother. “Be careful, okay?”

“I am _always_ careful, Jakey.” Four waved him off.

“You got _shot_. And _kidnapped_.”

_I’m so glad this is who Marie thinks is best for this mission,_ Faye thought with a quiet huff.

“The base probably isn’t armed with octosnipers, and if anything happens, there’s radio and backup.” Four tapped his headphones, which were connected to a tiny television screen in the back corner of the truck, causing the secret camera image to shake. “And nothing _will_ happen, because I will be careful.”

“You better make _something_ happen, ‘cuz I don’t wanna sit in this truck waiting all day!” Pearl shouted, her sharp voice way too close and loud for Faye’s liking.

“Come on,” Callie said, enthusiastic as ever, as she gave Jake’s arm a gentle tug, trying to guide him back in. “He knows what he’s doing. We can know what he’s doing too; let’s watch the screen!”

Jake gave one last hesitant look at his brother, as if he was seriously considering either demanding Four stay here or that he go with him – and while Faye didn’t know much about Jake, she had the feeling he was likely to be five times the liability his annoying brother was – but he eventually sighed and let Callie pull him back into their cramped base. “Okay.”

“We’re just waiting around for Four to do this then?” Faye muttered, not giving anyone the chance to respond before she fought her way out of the truck. “Great.” She briefly turned to squid form to avoid knocking over any of the gear as she emerged out into what could only vaguely be considered ‘fresh’ air. Was the smell of octarian ink better than the smell of an old man who might not have bathed in months? Absolutely.

Marina only acknowledged Faye with a brief glance in her direction, deciding that whatever she was doing wouldn’t compromise the mission in any way, and focussed on her laptop once more as she tapped on a few keys and caused the circular gates to open enough for a squid to pass through. “I’ll activate the inkrail so you can get down safely, but go fast. We don’t know if anyone’s watching.”

Faye sat at the edge of the platform, swinging her legs over the ominous pool of toxic ink. Falling in there would probably be painful and almost certainly result in death, but what was life without a little excitement, right? She moved back a little a few moments later, crossing her legs against the cool metal surface instead, just to make sure she didn’t end up losing a shoe or something, because that would be inconvenient.

“Yeah.” Four had been watching her, probably to make sure she didn’t fall over the edge and into a purple death, but when Faye glanced over at him with a sharp glare, he averted his gaze back to Marina. _I definitely didn’t leave the truck to be around you. Also, please stop filming me._ “Got it. Sneak in, plug this thingamajig into something, sneak out.”

“Yeah, basically.” A rail of yellow ink appeared from down within the city. “I’ll tell you what to do over the radio when you get that far.”

The mission started as soon as Agent 4 disappeared into the dome. For the rest of them, their first task was a waiting game while he did his part. Faye had already impulsively started trying to remember and trace the route in her head, despite only having been into the base once, just to prove to herself out of spite that she would’ve been a _much_ better choice for this mission.

“You okay, Agent 3?” Marina’s voice broke through her mental simulation, and the ramp up to the truck creaked as she took one step onto it in preparation to return inside.

“Yeah.” Faye held back a retort about that throwing off her rhythm, because Marina didn’t know and if she _did_ she’d probably make a comment about how petty it was, and she wouldn’t even be wrong. It wasn’t as if Faye’s mental timing would be accurate, anyway. “It’s crowded inside.”

“Yeah, I getcha. I’ll give you a shout when we’re going in so you don’t miss the ride, okay?”

“Sure. Thanks.”

Muffled voices sounded within the truck as the rest of the splatoon watched Four’s camera, most of them remaining quiet so Marina could direct him, with the exception of Pearl who just didn’t seem to have volume control. Faye tuned them all out, focusing on the sounds of the swirling octarian ink below and the creaking machinery of Cephalon HQ around her. The feeling of _not_ _belonging_ grew inside her, something that was nowhere near unfamiliar, but she tried her best to force it away; she was the one who decided to stay out here, alone, so it was her own fault.

Another creak of the board made her ears twitch, but she didn’t turn to acknowledge or find out who it was; she just knew it absolutely was not Pearl, because apparently she didn’t know how to shut her mouth and was still yammering away inside, and _why would you make me have to hear her again._

The footsteps stopped a little way off, her company not wanting to get too close to the edge of the platform. “…Hey.”

_Oh._ Marie. Someone who, at any other time, would have actually deserved eye contact, but Faye was still silently holding a grudge over what she’d been told earlier. “What do you want?”

An awkward silence hung in the air like toxic mist. Maybe the air here _was_ toxic, so close to the sea of purple, but Faye was pretty sure Tartar had already taken a good chunk off her lifespan, so what was a few more years?

“I, uh…” Marie began slowly, and her voice was so unsure, so un-Agent-2-like, that Faye finally looked over her shoulder at her. The green inkling didn’t meet her gaze, focusing back and forth from the ground to the ink lake as she worried the fraying elbow of one of her sleeves. “I’m sorry if I—for— for upsetting you earlier.”

Faye felt one eyebrow rise without much control; she hadn’t expected an apology, especially when she’d already accepted that all her issues with this mission were entirely self-centred and meant nothing to anyone else. It was so difficult to read Marie sometimes; Faye was bad at reading people in general, but at least with most others the clues were there. Marie seemed to have an entirely different personality around Faye; it was almost as if she was scared of her at times.

Maybe it was the scar. That was the main thing that had changed over the past two years, because Faye _knew_ that Marie hadn’t acted like this when they first met on active agent duty. But if that was the case, why had things felt so _okay_ between them recently? Why did it all have to crumble now?

Unless Marie _pitied_ her. She felt _bad_ for her, after what happened in that match, being forgotten for this mission…

Faye curled a hand into the material of her jacket as she glared at the purple ink below. It was far, far too late for people to start pitying her now. “Sure. Whatever. It’s fine.”

“Uh—okay.” Marie’s unsure response tapered into an awkward silence, broken only by Pearl’s overzealous shouting in the van. Four had made it to some place of interest to her, apparently. If she didn’t shut up, the octarians would probably hear her all the way down there. “… If you ever need someone to talk to, though—I’m here, okay?”

“Sure. I’ll tell you all my problems if I ever feel an overwhelming urge to be the subject over family dinner,” Faye muttered, impulsively responding out of spite.

“That’s not what—” Marie stopped herself, like she wanted to say more but decided it wasn’t a good idea. She was correct. Faye didn’t want to talk. “Fine.” Her shoes only made a quiet noise on the metal as she turned to walk away, hesitating very briefly after a few steps. She said nothing else, and a few moments later Faye heard the board creak as she returned to the van.

Faye felt her hands ball into fists as she was hit by a fierce urge to hit something – the floor, herself, whatever – but she fought it, and instead pulled a splat bomb from the dispenser attached to her heroshot, flinging the explosive as far and violently as she could. It splashed into the purple ink some distance away, and the sound of its explosion was unheard as it did little more than create a bubble on the surface as the yellow ink quickly dissipated.

She couldn’t keep her place in the splatoon, she couldn’t keep her close friends; what was she even trying to do anymore?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who is ready for a journey of personal growth
> 
> Thank you to anyone who decides to continue reading & especially to my friends who beta read for me while I was writing this story!!
> 
> If anyone wants a visual of the non-canon characters in the story, a good chunk of them have refs [here.](https://sta.sh/21xjfzpd3rzn)


	2. An Easy Mission

Jake hadn’t realised he was irritably scratching at his arm until Callie carefully pulled his hand away, relieving the area where a faded scar lay hidden under his sleeve. It had stopped stinging a long time ago, when his arm had grown back, but though the new limb was completely unscathed, the point where the charger shot had torn through his skin had been burned enough to leave a permanent mark. Watching the low-quality camera feed from Rollo’s headphones seemed to have irritated it again, although Jake knew it was entirely psychological. He didn’t exactly have great memories of the octo city.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go back to the outpost?” Callie asked quietly, not letting go of his hand. At least that stopped him from scratching; it was almost impossible for him to touch that part of his right arm with the hand attached to it. “I could go with you, if you want.”

“Aww, Callie has a boyfriend,” Pearl snickered with a toothy grin.

“I do _not_!” As if she’d been burned, Callie snatched her hand away from him so fast it almost hurt. When that only made Pearl laugh more, she grabbed the nearest discarded object on the ground – an extra pair of hero headphones – and flung it at the smaller squid.

Jake scowled in Pearl’s general direction; he and Callie had become pretty close in the past few months, close enough for him to know that Callie _was_ a very touchy person, and there was no romantic implication behind her actions. In fact, he was pretty sure most of her reason for wanting to take him back to the outpost, other than to make sure her friend was safe, was to get away from this place herself. Based on what he’d heard, of more kidnappings and brainwashing, she had even more reason to dislike this place than he did. If she wanted someone to hold her hand as a source of comfort, he didn’t mind doing that.

Before he could finish articulating any kind of response that didn’t just sound like denial, Jake’s thought process was interrupted violently as, yet again, he found himself staring down the barrel of a charger. With a small squeak of surprise, he tried to scramble away, but his back quickly hit the wall of the truck.

“I don’t want to see anybody puttin’ the moves on my granddaughter, sonny!” Cap’n Cuttlefish said boldly, pointing his cane more directly at Jake – he hadn’t noticed that thing was an ancient-looking bamboozler until now.

“ _Grampa_!” Callie whined, clearly upset that he seemed to have taken Pearl’s joke seriously – which Pearl found even more hilarious, laughing so hard that she fell off the box she’d been sitting on.

“I’m not—I didn’t—!” Jake pressed himself further against the wall; he was definitely not a fan of being threatened in this way. Did it run in the family, or something?

As if his thoughts had summoned her, Marie appeared in his field of vision as she grabbed the barrel of the old weapon and pushed it aside so she could get past. “Don’t threaten the kid, Gramps, he’ll cry.”

“Hmph.” The captain lowered his gun, causing it to make a hollow _thunk_ as the barrel knocked against the floor of the truck. Could he even make enough ink to fire it in the first place? “I’m just lookin’ out for my beloved grandkids!”

Marie didn’t comment, wordlessly finding her seat on the ground space next to Callie. Judging by the harshness of her movements as she dropped down, she didn’t seem too happy either; was it because of where they were, or had something happened out there with Agent 3?

“You okay?” Callie asked, echoing his thoughts, the past minute forgotten even though Pearl was still in the process of climbing back onto her box seat. Callie reached out to place a hand on Marie’s arm, and the green inkling flinched from the contact, as if she had to hold herself back from harshly shaking her off.

“I’m _fine_ ,” Marie snapped in a way that a person who was fine would not. “In case you all forgot, we’re in the middle of a mission here. Stop joking around.” She glared pointedly at Pearl.

“Okay, miss killjoy.” Pearl stuck out her tongue. “You weren’t there. It was funny. Wasn’t it, Marina?” She gently elbowed her girlfriend in the side.

“Huh? What?” Marina blinked at her in slight confusion as she dragged her gaze from the screen for a few seconds. “Uh—sure, Pearl, whatever you say. I’m kinda busy.”

“Oh! Right, right, right. Important mission. Duh.” Pearl waved her hands and turned her head to the others. “Wow, you guys shouldn’t be distracting us like that, could’ve blown the whole thing.”

Callie glared at her with an indignant huff.

Rollo’s journey into the city went smoothly. There weren’t many octolings around, and not a single soldier was seen parading the streets. When the stairs leading up to the main base came into view on screen, Jake found himself clinging to Callie’s sleeve, if only to try and not focus on the weird feeling in his arm lest he start worrying it again. He could remember, very vividly, Marina carrying his squid form up that staircase, and the stressful events that had unfolded after the moment they reached the top.

Today, however, it looked unguarded. Rollo made his way up carefully, trying to be as stealthy as one could while completely in the open, but he wasn’t stopped and the doorway was empty. Did the lack of soldiers mean Octavio wasn’t here? Or did it mean Rollo was walking directly into a trap?

The group fell completely silent as Marina gave him directions through the base, with everyone picking up on the serious atmosphere, even Pearl. It didn’t take long for Rollo to follow directions to a building deep within the octarian base, and a room within it that housed one of the biggest computers Jake had ever seen. To their luck, there wasn’t an octoling in sight.

“There should be a bunch of USB slots beneath the keyboard on the right,” Marina instructed, squinting at the low-resolution screen. “Just put the drive in any of them and you’re good.”

“Gotcha,” Rollo responded quietly, his voice crackly over the low-quality communicator. They watched as he tried to insert the device, met resistance, then turned it the other way before it finally clicked into place, and the screens on the wall lit up.

“Those things trip me up every time too,” Pearl commented.

“Alright, you’re good.” Marina seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. “Just get out of there safely and try not to let anyone see you.”

That order was apparently a lot easier said than done, as the moment the camera swivelled to the doorway, the prior empty space was occupied by a small-looking figure. It was difficult to see, as far from the little screen as Jake was, but without a doubt, that was definitely an octoling. He gasped, fear running through his veins as thoughts of his brother being captured again battered at his mind. “Rollo!”

The octoling cried out something Jake couldn’t understand – octarian language – and Marie leaned forward a little to see better, putting one hand against the wall of the truck in preparation to push herself up. “That’s not good.”

“Wait, wait, don’t attack him!” Marina cried out, holding out a hand in front of her even though Rollo had no way of seeing the action. “He’s not a soldier, he won’t be linked up to the respawn system, and there might not be enough power to run it in the first place.”

“Uh—okay, what do you suggest I do then?” Rollo asked, sounding a little confused.

To everyone’s surprise, the octoling didn’t make any attempt to attack either; he also didn’t try to run and alert anyone else. “Me?” He looked terrified, his image distorting a little as he took a step back. “You are… talking to someone? Someone else? A… an attack?”

“No! No, no attack,” Rollo assured. “I’m, uh… here to check the meters?”

Marie smacked a hand to her face. “We’re screwed.”

“No—maybe not.” Marina waved a hand in her direction, still squinting at the screen. “I think—I think I might know who that is. Agent 4, ask him if his name is Miles.”

“You know that kid?” Pearl asked with a look of awe as Rollo followed out the order.

Marina shrugged, opening her laptop and clicking on something with the touchpad. “Not personally, but… I know _of_ him.”

Upon hearing the name, the octoling boy looked even more shocked. His hair twitched a little; two long tentacles at the very top of his head and not much everywhere else. “How… are you knowing of my name? Who are you working for?”

“Someone who has your best interests in mind, I’ll promise you that much.”

“Just give me one second—okay. I think I can connect now the drive is in.” She pressed down a key. “Miles? I need you to sneak out of the base with Agent 4 here, okay?”

Her voice echoed quietly in the audio they were picking up from Rollo’s feed, and the octoling boy jumped. “M-me? I can’t, I—if I help a hacker…”

Marina said something else to him, but it was in octarian. Miles looked uncertainly in what was probably the direction of the screens, before he gave a small nod and said something back that Jake also couldn’t understand.

“We good?” Rollo checked.

“We good,” Marina assured, and lifted her hand from the keyboard with a sigh of relief. “As long as nobody detects that transmission, at least.”

“What did you say to him?” the captain asked, a smidge of distrust in his voice. Pearl gave him a warning glare at the possible implication that Marina would conspire with an enemy just because she was an octoling.

_They aren’t our enemies,_ Jake reminded himself. _At least, I really hope they aren’t._

“I told him if he kept quiet, he’d help everyone gain their freedom,” Marina explained simply, not put off by the covered accusation. “And that we would do our best to protect him.”

“That poor kid gave in really fast,” Callie murmured, watching the screen. Miles flinched as Rollo approached, but gave a small nod and turned to lead the way out. That put the left side of his face in clear view of the camera, and Callie gasped. “What _happened_ to him!?”

A massive scar stretched down the octoling boy’s face, directly through his eye; Jake realised, his stomach lurching, that Miles didn’t even have an eyeball on that side.

“There was an accident quite a few years ago, before I left,” Marina told them. “Part of the city’s structure collapsed, and I guess he got caught by something sharp. He was deemed unfit for being a soldier because of his missing eye, so… I guess he dodged a bullet, really.”

“Yeesh. Poor kid,” Pearl grimaced. “Still, he’s gonna be safe in Inkopolis! Thanks to you, ‘Rina.”

“Yeah.” Marina gave a half-hearted smile. She stared at the screen for a moment. “I’ll start making preparations to open the doors once they make it outside the main wall. Can someone go get Agent 3? She’s been waiting outside.”

Callie looked expectantly to Marie, and Jake found himself following her gaze. He wasn’t sure if Callie knew something he didn’t, but Marie did seem to be friends with Agent 3 and she _had_ been out there just now.

“Agent 8,” Marie stated, drawing a surprised sound from her cousin. “You’re near the door; you get her.”

Eight blinked in surprise; she’d been watching silently, the skull mask covering her mouth as usual, and she shot a confused look at Jake, who was noticeable closer to the door of the truck than she was. He shot back an equally dumbfounded look and shrugged. “Okay,” Eight nodded, not seeing any point in arguing as she hopped to her feet and began to make her way outside.

Callie watched her go and narrowed her eyes at Marie, in a ‘I know something happened but I’m not going to ask while everyone else is listening’ kind of way. “Okay! Well,” she rubbed her hands together, probably to distract anyone else from overthinking Marie’s reaction. “The first part of the mission was successful! That’s exciting.”

* * *

The next part of the mission involved moving the truck again, and Jake crossed his fingers and hoped nothing would fall on him when the slightly uneven rockets made the ground tilt. Pearl was flung off her box chair again and decided that sitting on the floor was fine for now. Agent 3, who Eight had persuaded to return for this short journey, had packed herself away in a corner as far from the others as she could be, at the price of having to hold her hand against a speaker so it wouldn’t fall on her.

When they touched down again, and everyone warily emerged from the semi-safety of the truck, they were in a large clearing in the city that looked like it may have been a gathering area at some point, like a town square. It was surrounded by low walls, even though there wasn’t much to see beyond them other than more dry-coloured buildings, and the lack of sunlight didn’t make the place look any more inviting as a community area. A beat played throughout the massive dome, thundering quietly like a heartbeat.

“Keep yer weapons handy, but don’t use any unless absolutely necessary!” the captain ordered. He waved off Marie with one hand as she anxiously tried to aid him in his hobbling down the ramp.

“Right!” Callie rested her very-not-subtle roller against the side of the truck. “We’re on a _liberation_ mission here, not an invasion.”

“Wow, a fancy word,” Marie joked once her grandfather was safely on the ground. The bad mood she’d been in before seemed to be wearing off— or maybe she just had the power of sarcasm regardless of her emotions, Jake honestly couldn’t tell. “I’m proud of you.”

“Why _thank_ you, dearest cousin. Maybe one day you too can use words with four or more syllables.”

The group worked together to move the equipment from the truck, the heaviest of which fortunately had wheels attached. Marina set it up swiftly, connecting wires and antennae and things Jake couldn’t even put a name to, and before she was finished, Rollo appeared in the entrance to the square.

“We should’ve brought a barbeque along,” he commented as he observed their setup. “It would’ve matched the neighbourhood party look.”

“Good work, Agent 4.” Marie ignored his joke as she took an inkrail head from the truck and handed it to Eight, who quickly went to work setting it up as an octarian-ink-coloured path to the doors in the roof of the dome. “Did the octoling give you any trouble?”

“Not at all.” Rollo looked around for the boy; Miles had followed him to the edge of the square, but upon seeing all the other inklings around, he’d halted. His hair twitched in a similar way to how Eight or Marina’s did when they were anxious or deep in thought. “Come on; they won’t hurt you. We’re all friends here.”

Jake’s ears twitched as he was pretty sure he heard Agent 3 mutter a “if you say so” under her breath, but he was too far away to know for sure.

Miles shuffled his feet a little, gaze switching rapidly from the group in front of him to the ground, as if he thought just looking at them would be cause for him to get arrested for mutiny, or whatever standards Octavio held these poor octopi to – and for all Jake knew, maybe it would. There hadn’t been any sign that the octarian leader was here, and even if they hadn’t been stormed by octarian soldiers yet, they still needed to keep an eye out. Miles certainly wasn’t dressed like a soldier, though; he had no armour, just dusty shorts and a baggy shirt that was too big for him. “You promised freedom – what about others?”

“Help them get out of this place too, I hope.” Marina plugged in one last thing before handing a wire off to Sheldon to connect to the truck for power, held up one hand as if telling her setup to stay, and made her way over. “This is an awful place to live compared to the surface, and I know that now. Octavio can’t force you to do anything up there.”

Rollo exchanged a glance with Marie. Fortunately, the octolings didn’t notice. That machine had been destroyed months ago; it shouldn’t be a problem now, or so they all hoped.

As she approached, Miles’ brow rose with a look of recognition in his eyes. “You are…!” His words quickly gave way to octarian; that must have been his first language and the one he was most fluent in, and while it was convenient they had octolings here who could communicate, it was unnerving not being able to tell what he was saying.

Marina gave a halfhearted smile as she responded to him, beckoning him into the group. He followed her, seeming a little more confident – did he know Marina? – but still shrank away from the captain’s wary gaze. Callie gave her grandfather a very gentle nudge, as a subtle reminder to _please be nice_.

“Is it party time?” Pearl asked, spinning a dualie around one finger.

“Please, Pearlie, don’t brandish your weapons like that,” Marina said hurriedly when she noticed Miles halt again. “But yeah, I think everything is set up! Is everyone ready?”

Her question was met with resounding “yes”s and nods. This was what they’d been planning for months, and it was finally going down. Jake took a deep breath, resting his hands on the hero charger – he hadn’t touched this weapon since it was used to shoot off one of his limbs, although he had dabbled in turf a few times since recovering with the replica, and he hoped he’d be able to aim okay if shooting it was absolutely necessary. Hopefully, if their plan worked, he wouldn’t need to.

Marina pressed some things on her setup, which looked strikingly similar to the DJ booth Jake had seen her using on Inkopolis News but bigger, and as she raised one hand in a motion for everyone to be quiet, a light flickered on. Something within the device let out a high-pitched whir. The low thumping beat of the city stopped. She picked up a microphone.

“Octoling citizens,” she spoke, and her voice echoed faintly as if it were coming from all directions at once. She’d said once that the radio played at all times in this city; that must have been what she’d hacked into now. Her expression looked distant as she continued; she was thinking carefully about her words, but also remembering her previous experiences with this place. “My name is Marina Ida. I don’t know how much you remember of me, or if you’re even still able to – but I’m here to release you from Octavio’s control and offer you a life on the surface.” She repeated her message again, this time in octarian.

The light flickered out, she put down the mic, and after the press of a few buttons a new beat pulsed from the heart of the city; the beginning of the Calamari Inkantation.

A beam of light took off from the device, lighting up a bright hologram in the air above them as a beacon; it was the same octopus symbol Marina used in splatfest.

All it took was a few seconds for the eerie silence of the city to disperse.

Chattering started up in the distance, too far for Jake to be able to properly hear the tone. Gradually he began to see shapes move in the shadows, curious octolings approaching but afraid to engage once they realised there were inklings with weapons here.

Eventually, one got brave, emerging out into the square. They were unarmed, dressed in what looked like octoling armour but without the actual ‘armour’ parts to protect them. Their eyes drifted over the group; wariness or a challenge, it was difficult to tell. Words came out of their mouth, but once again, they were speaking in octarian.

Marina didn’t seem concerned. She nodded assuredly, saying something back.

“I words few of inkling,” the unknown octoling stated. “My sorry. Close here—we know song.” While Miles’ hair still twitched nervously, and to an extent Marina’s and Eights’ did too, this octoling’s hair was mostly still; the two tentacles on the right side of their head were even longer than Marina’s, but the left side had been cut almost to the roots. Their voice, other than the hint of confusion as they tried to formulate the correct words in inkling, was emotionless, as if this place had drained the life from them and they were no longer worried about what their fate might be, surrounded by the species they were taught enemies of. “You escape? Possible?”

“We can all escape.” Marina said with a nod. “Or at least, everyone who makes the conscious choice to.” At the other octoling’s blank look, she said something in octarian, most likely repeating her sentence in the language they knew.

They smiled a little at that. “Thanking.” They looked back the way they’d come, saying another word that meant nothing to Jake, and a few more octolings cautiously made their way out to join the others in the clearing.

Marina spoke with this extremely calm octoling for a moment before eventually motioning towards the captain and saying his name; the old man looked alarmed for a brief moment, not being able to understand most of their conversation, and stared as the stranger held out a hand.

“This is Anten,” Marina explained helpfully. “They told me most of the octolings in this part of the city aren’t soldiers and they’ve heard the Inkantation.”

“Oh! Well then. Cap’n Cuttlefish to ya.” He reached out and shook the octoling’s hand. “Any friend of the Inkantation is a friend o’ ours!”

“Such low standards,” Pearl joked quietly, out of hearing range of the captain.

The plan was working. More and more octolings joined them in the square over time, a few looking wary but most curious. The more of them appeared, the less frightened they seemed; they knew that if these inklings were to attack them, the squids would be outnumbered, but there were still nowhere near as many as Jake expected out of a city this large.

After speaking with a few of the locals, who she may or may not have known prior to today, Marina returned to their group. “Pretty much as I expected, there’s still a few who aren’t here, and all the reports I’ve heard are soldiers. Even without Octavio here, if they have the shades…”

“The hypnoshades are strong, but they don’t make them deaf.” Callie half-absently fiddled with the handle of her roller, which was firmly planted on the ground to make sure she didn’t look like a threat. “I’ve seen it before—how they react to the inkantation. It’s like it messes with whatever Octavio is doing to them. We just need to remove their shades.”

Jake nodded, remembering the incident in the dungeons. The octoling soldiers had frozen when Callie and Pearl sang, probably against whatever Octavio was willing them to do at the time.

“We need to save as many of them as we can,” Marie nodded. “As much as I don’t want to go out into this place, at least it shouldn’t be too dangerous.”

“Right. We should go in small groups. You can take your weapons for safety, but… please try not to injure anyone. I doubt there’s enough electricity here now to power the respawn systems.” Marina looked around. “I’ll ask if any of the octolings want to help us; they’ll probably know some of the soldiers.”

As she left to do that, the captain lifted his cane. “Alright then! New Squidbeak Splatoon, I’ll assign you each a partner to travel with. Keep your mission buddy close!”

“Oh boy.” Even with the facemask on, Marie visibly grimaced a little in second-hand embarrassment over her grandfather’s choice of words.

“Okay, I suppose we go in order! Agent 1, you can go with…”

“I’ll—I’ll stay here with you, captain!” Callie interrupted hurriedly. “You probably won’t want to be walking a distance, and you need a buddy too, right? For safety?”

Her hands were shivering a little against her roller. She really didn’t like this place. Jake gave her a sympathetic glance, but it went unnoticed. Callie’s gaze kept switching from her roller to her grandfather to the floor.

“Hmm… good idea, Agent 1!” the captain nodded wisely. It was impossible to tell if he’d seen through her or not, but Callie looked relieved. “Okay, next, Agent 2. Your assigned buddy is MC Princess.”

Marie’s expression creased in confusion for a moment at the unknown code name, but it quickly cleared into horror when her designated mission partner let out a sound of disgust.

“What!? Why _me_?” Pearl snapped. “I already _have_ a partner, put me with Marina!”

“It’s nice to mix things up now and then! Think of it like a training exercise.”

“Can’t I do a training exercise with literally anyone _other_ than Pearl?” Marie insisted, looking a little exasperated and like she definitely regretted agreeing to do this mission now.

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” Pearl glared at the slightly taller inkling. “You too slow to keep up with someone of my speed and style, grandma?”

“Don’t call me th— you literally have the same hair colour as me!”

“Next up!” The captain ignored the arguing of his match made in heaven and tapped his cane thoughtfully. “Agent 3.”

“I’m good on my own, thanks.” Agent 3 muttered, side-eyeing Marie and Pearl, who had begrudgingly accepted their fate.

“Nonsense! Safety in numbers. You can go with…” He lifted the bamboozler, swinging it around dramatically as he chose his victim. “Codeless here!”

Jake was the recipient of the barrel of a bamboozler for the second time that day.

_Wait._

“ _What_!?” Both he and Agent 3 burst out at the same time, drawing the confused attention of a few of the octolings gathered nearby.

“Him!?” Agent 3 shot him a dismayed look, as if he was her absolute last choice in this matter. It stung a little. “I’m here to free the octolings, not babysit the kid!”

“I’m not a—”

“ _Hey_ ,” Rollo spoke up, ready to defend his little brother as always but not really helping the matter much in this case. He briefly glared at Agent 3 before directing his gaze to Cuttlefish. “Captain, I’ll go with Jake. It’s fine.”

“No, no, you’re staying here.” The Captain waved him off. “Carrying a roller doesn’t make you look very friendly and it’s easy to fend off multiple enemies if this bunch turns on us. Besides, Agent 3, I’m sure Agent 2 wouldn’t have recruited him if he wasn’t a good agent!”

Marie coughed to cover up her inevitable laugh, which still fought its way out of her when Callie harshly nudged her arm. “Ow? Yeah, he’s—he’s the best. Never seen an agent like him.”

“Thanks. I’m flattered.” Jake threw her a sulky look, and Marie waved one hand in the most pathetic apology he’d ever been given.

“And that just leaves Agent 8 and DJ Hyperfresh, when she returns. Squidbeak, you have your mission! Save every last octoling you find!”

* * *

Despite his earlier misgivings, the mission wasn’t too bad. Agent 3 barely said a word to him, and considering how she’d reacted when he was assigned as her partner, Jake was a little relieved by this fact. Though he’d seen her before, he hadn’t really interacted with her much. She was… scary.

Each pair was assigned a section of the deeper city, including a few groups of octolings who wanted to help free the others from Octavio’s control. The liberation was going smoothly, and Jake realised with a pang of sympathy that living in the underground domes must have really been awful if the octolings were all agreeing to go with them so fast, given the history between the two species.

There weren’t many soldiers in the section he and Agent 3 were assigned, just a couple who seemed paralysed by the conflicting music and shades – even though the Calamari Inkantation was a lot more upbeat than whatever Octavio had playing constantly, it didn’t make the place any less eerie, and Jake wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to listen to the song again after hearing it on repeat for so long down here – and all it took was removing the glasses, and a brief sign that they were no threat, for the soldiers to nod and start on their journey to where the others were.

“Unfittingly colourful sign,” Jake pointed out as they reached the landmark Marina had given them.

“I’m so glad to know your eyes work,” Agent 3 muttered bitterly, tapping the billboard with one hand as if she had to physically touch it to mark the end of their patrol. “Back to base.”

Jake struggled to keep up with her impatient pace as they headed back to the hologram-marked square. Perhaps Agent 3 just wanted to be rid of him as soon as possible. He would be lying if he said he didn’t want to get away from her also, especially given her current attitude. Was she always like this? Jake had only met her once before, and he’d been half-conscious for most of it.

They were the first pair back at the gradually-filling court, and Jake was immediately welcomed back by his brother tousling his hair. “Three didn’t shoot any of your limbs off, I see.”

“Only my stupid brother can do that.” Jake smacked his hand away with a little more force than necessary, and didn’t feel any remorse for the slight hint of guilt he saw in Rollo’s eyes. He deserved it for that joke. “Neither of us had to shoot anyone.” Looking over at his now-ex-teammate, to make sure she was out of earshot as Callie asked her how their mission went, Jake lowered his voice. “I don’t think Agent 3 likes me much.”

“I don’t think she likes _anyone_ much,” Rollo muttered. “She tolerates Eight, and maybe Marie, but I don’t think I’ve seen her willingly _talk_ to anyone else outside of agent business.”

“I guess…” Jake watched as Agent 3 regarded Callie with no more friendliness than she had to him, and while he didn’t feel as bad knowing the coldness wasn’t reserved just for him, it hurt a little to see Callie’s expression fall when the agent walked away. “I don’t think I like her much either.”

Marina and Eight were the next ones back, with a few more de-shaded octoling soldiers in tow. Marina said something to the friendly octoling they’d met earlier, Anten, which was probably something along the lines of a ‘do you think this is nearly everyone?’, to which Anten shrugged. They were bold and not scared of the inklings, and willing to help lead their neighbours to safety, but it was impossible for them to know everyone, despite how thin the ranks of octolings had become. There couldn’t have been more than forty or so in the square with them now.

“Looks like we’re almost done!” the captain clapped a hand against his cane. “Perhaps you lot could help arrange everyone into groups. Anyone who can’t use the rail gets a ride with me and Shellendorf!”

“With all due respect, sir, Shellendorf was my grandpappy,” Sheldon nervously pressed his fingers together from where he stood nearby, waiting to be needed again to drive them out. He looked a little intimidated by all the tall octolings surrounding him. “But yes, indeed.”

As Marina and the Captain attempted to organise their group, the others mostly stood aside and waited. As time passed, Callie had begun to pace back and forth, stretching up to see each possible entrance to the area over the crowd. She was looking for her cousin; Marie and Pearl were the only group not to have returned yet.

“I’m sure they’re fine,” Rollo told her, obviously picking up on what she was worried about. “None of the others ran into trouble, and from what we can tell Octavio isn’t even here.”

“You’re right,” Callie nodded, not sounding like she believed her own words. “Still…”

As if her words had been a summoning, a flash of white caught the corner of Jake’s eye as Pearl squeezed through the crowd of octolings. She was spinning one of her dualies around a finger, causing one of the octopi watching her to back away a little. “ _Dude_ , we brought the whole town out for this party!”

“The best parties are the ones where everyone escapes from a terrible leader,” Rollo muttered sarcastically.

“Where’s Marie?” Callie asked, ignoring their joking. She had a point, though; her cousin didn’t seem to be here.

“Oh.” Pearl blinked innocently up at her. “She’s not back yet?”

“She’s not—what do you _mean_ she’s _not back yet_!?” A look of horror spread on Callie’s face like ink in water and her voice rose a few pitches. “She was supposed to be with you! On a _team_!”

“Yeah, and the _team_ thing wasn’t really working out. Personality clash, y’know? So we split up.” Pearl shrugged, as if she really didn’t understand what Callie was so worried about.

“So you left her.” Callie sounded absolutely dumbfounded. “Down here. In the _base of the octarians._ On _her own!?”_

Pearl held her hands up defensively. “It’s not even dangerous here anymore, geez! Ain’t she, like, _Agent 2_ or whatever? She can look after herself. _I’m_ fine. I made it back here and I don’t even get a cool agent number!”

“But you don’t— _augh!”_ Callie threw her hands up in frustration. She grabbed the handle of her roller, swinging it over her shoulder as she stormed off towards the nearest exit into the city. “Jake!”

“Me?” Jake had been leaning against the hilt of his charger and nearly fell as he quickly lifted a hand to point to himself. He blinked in surprise for a moment before realising she wanted him to follow her, and hurriedly snatched up his weapon and scurried after her.

“Wait, where are you going?” Agent 3 stepped partially in front of Callie before the gate, enough to make her hesitate but not blocking her way – whether it was intentional or just because Callie was carrying a heavy weapon, Jake couldn’t tell. She didn’t seem alarmed – Agent 3 never did – but if she knew Callie was _going_ somewhere, she must have overheard at least part of the conversation.

“Pearl abandoned my cousin somewhere out in the damn city.” That was all the explanation Callie gave as she made a small detour around her.

Agent 3’s brow furrowed, and she shot a glare at Pearl, who only made a face at her. “Okay. I’ll help look.” Without missing a beat, she ducked under the roller and raced away into the city.

Callie looked confused only for a second trying to work out where she’d gone – was doing that supposed to throw her off so she wouldn’t follow? – and made a feeble attempt to reach out a hand. “Wait, don’t—okay. Fine! Go off alone and make even more lost squids for us to find.” She sighed in exasperation, and gave a shake of her head that caused her long hair to shudder.

“I think she prefers being alone,” Jake commented as they left the clearing and started on their Marie hunt. Where were they even supposed to look? He couldn’t remember who had been assigned which part of the city, or if Pearl and Marie had even stuck to the plan at all since they’d already managed to mess up the main part about sticking together. Who’s idea had that even been? Probably Pearl’s. “I, uh—not to like, self-depreciate, but like—I don’t think me going with you is much better than going alone, really.”

“It is.” Callie passed him a small glance, her expression unreadable. Given how emotive Callie usually was, that was a rarity, and a little unsettling. “I trust you.”

Jake gave a half-smile. “I’m flattered, really, but trusting isn’t going to make me any better at aiming if we get attacked.”

“I hope we don’t. I hope nothing happens. I hope I’m just worrying for _nothing_ and we run into Marie on her way back in the next ten seconds and she’s just pissed off because Pearl is annoying.” Her voice wobbled a little as her words sped up, her pace faltering ever so slightly, and she took a deep breath before making a few faster steps forward. “I just—I have an awful feeling. This _place_ is awful feeling. I don’t want to be here, and I know Marie doesn’t either.”

_Not after what happened last time._ The words went unspoken. Jake had never really heard much from Marie about her experience in this place, but he’d definitely seen the effect it had on Callie. He could count on one hand the amount of times he’d seen Callie cry, and the number of those that weren’t over sad scenes in movies had all occurred in this place.

“I’m sure she’s okay.” Jake, realising it was what she needed right now, decided to be encouraging. And really, what was even down here? Most of the octolings were with their group. “There shouldn’t be much danger around, and the rest of us didn’t run into any trouble.” He glanced behind them to check their sight of the clearing was blocked by an old broken car, and held out a hand towards her. “Pearl isn’t watching.”

Callie’s gaze tilted with confusion for a moment before she realised what he meant, and a small laugh escaped her. With her free hand, she reached over to hold his. The contact seemed to immediately bring some of her confidence back, as well as a smile to her face. “I hope this summons Marie to us in the next twenty seconds. You know she’d love to poke fun at us for holding hands too.”

* * *

Ten minutes of walking, of the name ‘Agent 2!’ starting to lose all meaning other than a sound with how many times they deemed it safe enough to shout, and a few times of Callie almost accidentally blurting out her cousin’s real name in the depths of the octarian city, led them deep into the heart of the dome where the city became increasingly built-up. The walls of the base stood tall thirty or so yards ahead, and Callie’s grip on his hand became so tight that Jake worried for a moment if she would actually notice if she was about to crush it. He’d only grown that one back a few months ago.

“She wouldn’t—she wouldn’t go in there. Not on her own.” Callie’s voice came out a little ghostly-sounding, and maybe she was trying to decide in her mind whether her fears that something had happened were worth pursuing.

“I think Marina and Eight checked the base,” Jake recalled, giving her hand a small squeeze. To his relief, that brought Callie back to her senses and the crushing grip on him loosened, then disappeared entirely as she let go. The whole place felt a lot colder suddenly.

“I just want to know where she _is_!” Callie paced in a direction tangent to the wall, obviously not wanting to go into the base either. “I wish she’d stayed behind too. I wish grandpa hadn’t sent her off with Pearl.”

“Maybe she’s already made it back?” Jake had to jog to catch up with her, not wanting to lose anyone else in this place. He regretted that he hadn’t tried to stop Callie from her impulsive search long enough for them to pick up some way to communicate with the others; there weren’t enough headsets to share around their groups, but with everyone else back at the truck there would have been at least one spare. Agent 3’s hero headphones probably functioned still, but of course, nothing with her could ever be easy, and she’d _had_ to split off from them at the earliest opportunity.

Squidbeak really wasn’t that great at sticking together, now that he thought about it.

“Maybe.” Callie took in a deep breath, shuddering as she sighed it out. “We’ll just… keep going for five more minutes, and if we don’t find anything, we head back and hope. And if she’s not there…”

“If she’s not there by then, everyone can help look.” Jake placed a hand on her arm. “Maybe Marina can work some of her magic. She managed to find me in this place once, and she wasn’t even looking.”

The look Callie gave him held a small amount of reassurance, but mostly anxiety, fuelled both by the disappearance of her cousin and just being in this place. Still, she nodded, not having any words to reply with that wouldn’t just be her voicing her fears.

Their search led them to an odd-looking part of the city Jake hadn’t seen last time, where the paths gave way to dips on either side, some which looked to have been filled in, and the smell was worse here than anywhere else. This must have been where the octolings dumped their landfill, with no access to the outside world. It was buried at the bottom of the domes and covered up, the layers sealed over with concrete in a vain attempt to reduce the stink.

Jake’s sympathy for the octolings seemed to keep on growing. He couldn’t imagine having to live so close to all of the city’s garbage.

A sound that wasn’t them made his ears twitch. Jake didn’t have time to turn and look before a loud “ _hey_!” made both of them jump.

That definitely got their attention, and Callie span around so fast that Jake felt the draft of her roller and the relief that she hadn’t clipped him with it. “What— _no_!”

Jake felt his breath catch in his throat before he could make an equally shocked exclamation.

Back near the beginning of the path of waste, an octoling stood, this one actually outfitted in the soldier armour and with shades omitting her gaze. She looked young compared to some of the others, two longer tentacles of her black-and-purple hair tired back while the shorter ones lopsidedly framed her face, a hairstyle that looked familiar but Jake couldn’t place it. In one hand she held an octoshot, pointed stiffly at the head of an inkling she had in a headlock.

_Marie._

_Oh cod._

The green inkling looked terrified, her charger held awkwardly by the barrel in shaking hands in a way that promised she wouldn’t be able to use it, and caught in a position where she couldn’t really fight back even if she didn’t have a gun pointed at her head since the octoling was already a few inches shorter than her. Her gaze, wide with fear, fell on them, her lips reading out a ‘Callie’ that was too far away to hear if any sound even came out.

“Drop your weapons,” the octoling ordered, her voice bold and clear and not holding the uncertainty some of the others did in their inkling words.

Callie’s roller hit the ground with a resounding _thud,_ and Jake more carefully placed his charger on the ground so it wouldn’t roll away into the landfill pits. He could see Callie shivering but there was nothing he could do or say to help now, clenching his fists and becoming aware of his own trembling arms.

They couldn’t do anything. What were they supposed to do!?

“Good.” The octoling barely seemed to move, but the way Marie flinched showed she must have pushed the weapon more firmly against the side of her head. “Release the octolings, and you can have her back in one piece.”

“We haven’t done anything to release them from,” Callie insisted desperately. Tears were already streaming down her face, another one to add to the painful count. “We haven’t captured them, I promise! Please, _please_ don’t hurt her!”

“You’re using _that_ _song_ to brainwash them!” the octoling snarled. She pressed the weapon so firmly that it caused Marie to let out an audible sound of fear. “Bring them back or she will _die_!”

“Okay! Okay!” Callie waved her hands desperately, her breath coming out in gasps. She was definitely not in any state to negotiate for a hostage, but Jake didn’t feel like he could make a sound, let alone speak in coherent sentences. “W-we can’t do anything from here, but— but Jake can go back and tell them to return, a-and…” She threw him a desperate glance.

_I don’t know. I don’t know what to do. I’m sorry!_

“Then go.” The octoling didn’t move. “Do what you must, but don’t bring any other inklings back here.”

“Go,” Callie repeated to him, more quietly.

Jake, failing to suppress a quiet whimper of fear, nodded and took a step back. He didn’t know the fastest way back to the square from here, but it was definitely better to not try and go past that octoling. He realised, with a jolt, why she looked familiar; she was the octoling that shot him with a taser and handed him to Octavio last time he was down here.

Before he had time to do much else, a holographic marker appeared on the ground, slightly more than half way between them and the threat. It was the yellow indicator that marked the location for the end of a superjump, and also a sign that stabbed pure fear through Jake’s heart given their current situation as he noticed the glint of an inky arc through the air towards them.

Fortunately, Callie noticed it as well, screaming out in fear as for what the consequences of this might be. “ _NO, AGENT 3, DON’T SPLASHDOWN!”_

The glint vanished, and Jake had never felt more relieved to not see the warning ripples of a splashdown mark the area. Agent 3 landed heavily, rolling to negate some of the force behind her jump that she’d been prepared to use her special with, her shoes scuffing the earth but otherwise doing no damage. She found her balance and stood tall with an exhausted huff as she flung her cape back over her head, realising what the situation was here.

Jake cast a fearful look at the octoling, and, thank goodness, the potential attack hadn’t spooked her into destroying her hostage. Instead, she froze. “ _You_ …”

Marie cried out in surprise as she was suddenly released from the death grip and promptly sent to the ground. The octoling didn’t seem to care about her anymore; only on the newcomer.

The young soldier dashed forward with a furious yell, lunging at Agent 3 and sending them both over the edge of the path.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :] there she is


	3. Aftershock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning: strangulation?? (in the first section)

Faye didn’t really know what to do in this situation; she was here, and she’d been close to ruining everything because the enemy (question mark?) had a hostage, who _was_ one of her closest friends if she hadn’t completely ruined everything, and things did not look in their favour.

Of all the things she expected might happen next, of all the possible outcomes and potential terrible things that could happen to Marie, Faye really did not expect the hostage-taker to suddenly abandon their hostage and barrel into her side instead.

_What the hell!?_

The force shoved both of them off the path, and the next thing she knew Faye was rolling down the painfully rough surface of a slope that dipped into the ground. She finally managed to get some grip, catching her balance as her cape very much decided it wanted to turn her into a burrito, and she had to fight the thing to get it back into an acceptable cape position.

Then the octoling was upon her again, because apparently her mere existence had managed to really piss this thing off. Her attacker wasn’t holding the octoshot anymore; it had rolled somewhere down the slope as well, dropped in the kerfuffle, and from the looks of things her next plan of attack was ‘fists’.

Faye held her arm up to block a swing taken at her. “The hell are you doing, kid?” She didn’t _want_ Marie to be held as a hostage, but this seemed like a really stupid decision on the octoling’s part.

“You’re _Agent_ _3_ ,” the octoling snarled, showing the regular misaligned-looking octoling teeth. “If I take you out, I _win_.”

“Win what, Octavio’s soldier-of-the-month award?” Faye had to dodge another hit – this octoling sure was persistent, and the uneven surface didn’t make this any easier. She knew self-defence, she knew how to keep her balance and not get overpowered, but doing nothing but fend off this octoling with her arms was painful, because that just ended up with the octoling grabbing her arms to try and force an opening, and having someone grip your arm so tightly that it felt like their fingers were digging into your skin through your sleeves _hurt_.

_She’s being controlled by Octavio,_ Faye realised as the glow of the shades felt uncomfortably close to her face. They must have been too far from the buildings for the Inkantation to block out the effect of the shades here. She glanced back up at the path – she couldn’t see anyone, Callie and Jake were probably helping Marie, there was no backup for her here – and when the octoling tried to take advantage of her momentary lapse in attention, Faye found her chance.

Lashing out with one hand, she cuffed her attacker around the side of the head. It unbalanced the octoling as she let out a surprised yelp and was sent sprawling to the ground, losing her stinging grip on Faye’s arm.

The shades clattered against the solid earth, losing their glow once they separated from their owner.

“Finally.” Faye let out an exasperated sigh. _Thanks, Octavio. Go fuck yourself._ That poor soldier was probably going to be groggy for a while after being released from the hypnotising effect, and that would be less distressing for her if there wasn’t a slightly-angry-looking inkling hovering over her to make sure she was okay. One smack to the face wouldn’t kill someone. Faye should go and make sure the others were alright, and they could deal with this one after.

Faye made it three whole steps before she was hit by another rough force. It threw her to the ground – and though she tried to catch herself, the hard sloped floor was too much for her instincts to predict and her senses briefly exploded into white noise when her head connected with it.

Right on the bad side. Of course. Of _fucking_ course.

“Is this a _joke_ to you!?” The voice sounded a lot more distant than it actually was as Faye tried to push herself up – ugh, world spinning – and was promptly shoved down again, on her back this time.

Hands clamped roughly around her neck, and that was when the panic finally set in.

The octoling was still here. The shades were gone, and there was no sign of the effects from them, just bluish-green eyes blazing with more ferocity than Faye had ever seen from anyone before. “You _ruined_ _my_ _life_!”

Faye didn’t have enough working thoughts to try and work out what on earth she was talking about.

_Get_ _off me!_

Trying to kick the octoling away only resulted in swiping at empty air. She’d accounted for that.

_She’s choking me._

Faye tried desperately to escape – push the attacker away, claw at the hands throttling her to remove the force behind them – but nothing was working.

She couldn’t cry out for help.

Her vision swam awfully in front of her eyes.

_She’s going to kill me._

White. Nothing but white.

_I’m going to die._

_Help…_

The octoling shouted.

The pressure vanished immediately.

Faye gasped for breath. The rancid air of the domes had never felt so refreshing.

Breathing. Oh, breathing was so nice. She really did appreciate being able to breathe. That had taken priority over literally everything else right now, and Faye lay there limply as she tried to catch her breath. The greys of the dome faded back into her vision, and they weren’t nearly as nice as the air which sure was actually allowed to go into her lungs now.

_What the hell just happened? Oh cod._

Well, that was another near-death experience to add to the list. It was far too close to the ‘death’ part than usual, for her liking.

What was happening? Fighting? Was that where the octoling had gone? Who with? Cod, that was so many things to think about. She just wanted to _breathe_.

Her horribly muddled thoughts all spiralled into a centre at the most horrific scream she’d ever heard.

_No!_

Faye tried to get up. She couldn’t do that. The best she could do was roll over onto her side in a fruitless attempt to push herself up, and just ended up coughing out all that nice air she’d just gotten back.

But she was just in time to see someone else fall to the ground, electricity squirming through their body before they dissolved completely into ink.

_Eight!_

The octoling who’d attacked her just now stood a few feet away, pointing something at the mess, something that was definitely some kind of gun which had previously been attached to her belt.

_What the fuck did you do to her!?_

Trying to voice her horror only sent her into another fit of coughing. Faye pressed her forehead against the ground, willing the pounding in her head and chest to stop so she could _get up_ and _do something._

Now she was seeing double, too—

No. No, she wasn’t. That wasn’t the unknown octoling she was seeing twice; that was Marina, battering the weapon out of her hand. She grabbed the thing herself, and didn’t miss a beat before aiming it. The attacker’s eyes widened with fear a moment before it fired, and she met the same fate with a high-pitched shriek.

“Ei—” Faye’s attempt at words were interrupted by a forced intake of breath. Breathing didn’t feel quite as wonderful anymore.

“Eight!” Well, lucky Marina hadn’t just been almost strangled to death and could still speak as she flung herself down onto her knees next to the pile of ink, which, _thank_ _goodness_ , had pulled together into Eight’s octopus form.

_She’s alright. That’s a taser, not a killing weapon. Marina would never have used it on that other octoling if it was._

Eight whimpered quietly. Being zapped was, evidently, not a nice experience either. Marina carefully lifted the octopus into her arms. “It’ll wear off soon, I promise.”

Now that the threat was gone, Faye gave up on trying to be useful and fell back limply to the ground. _She’s fine. Marie is alright, as far as I know. The others should be okay too._ The awful choked feeling was beginning to wear off, and now the stink of the surroundings was beginning to hit her, along with a wave of nausea. _Man, this has been the shittiest birthday ever._

The next thing she knew, Marina was beside her, gently placing Eight back on the ground and a hand on Faye’s shoulder. “Agent 3, can you hear me?”

_She tried to strangle me, not rip my ears off._ “Y… eah,” Faye wheezed out between breaths.

“Can you breathe okay? Swallow?”

Faye gulped down what little saliva she had in her dry mouth, and her throat did sting in complaint, but not in a way she thought was dangerously bad. It didn’t feel like it was activating a gag reflex, so that was good enough for her. “Yeah. Jus’… gim’ a min’t.”

“Alright. I don’t think you’re in critical condition, just suffering some shock.” Marina’s to-the-point analysis was such a breath of fresh air – which was something else Faye really wanted right now – compared to the pitying looks everyone else kept giving her. Faye was still alive and not about to die on them; that was all Marina wanted to know. “Can you stand?”

“Maybe.” Good question. Faye made another attempt to push herself up, feeling thoroughly drained of energy. Her legs stung from the concrete scraping her skin, and her head was still pounding. It was difficult to tell if the world was spinning or if the slope made her centre of gravity feel off.

Soon, though, she was at least on her knees. Marina stood up, offering her an arm and cradling Eight in the other. The octopus was still shivering, either from distress or just as an after-effect of the taser. Poor thing.

Faye begrudgingly accepted the help, hoping that nobody except Marina would be able to tell just how much she was relying on her to stay standing when her legs immediately almost gave way beneath her. Back up the slope they went, reaching the path agonisingly slowly.

The others were still there; Jake was waiting at the edge of the path, and when he offered a hand to help, Faye only glared at him. Needing the aid of one cephalopod just to walk was humiliating enough for Faye. She wasn’t looking forward to walking all the way back to the base.

Nearby, the cousins were sat together. Callie was clinging tightly to Marie as if she never wanted to let her go again, and fresh streaks of tears lined her face. Marie, who would often shrug off Callie’s shows of affection, had accepted her fate for now, still suffering a little shock after being used as a hostage. Even with her slightly fuzzy vision, Faye could tell that she was shaking.

“Jake, could you hold Eight for a moment?” Marina asked, carefully handing the dazed octopus over to him. He seemed gentle enough, but still held her a little more awkwardly than Marina did, as if he didn’t want her too close to his body. “I’ll call Sheldon and tell him to bring the truck out here to pick us up when everyone is sorted out.”

“I can walk. I just need a moment,” Faye muttered, slipping out of Marina’s grip so she could sit on the ground instead. She kind of missed that one minute where breathing in this awful stink actually felt nice.

“I’m not going to make you walk that far,” Marina said firmly, no doubt used to dealing with stubborn squids if Pearl was her girlfriend. “Or anyone else. Besides, I don’t think Eight can use the inkrail right now, or…” She glanced down the slope. “That one. We should take her with us. I… don’t think we should leave her on her own down here.”

“Do you know her?” Jake asked quietly.

“Only that she’s the one we saw in the warehouse.” Marina shook her head. “I didn’t even know Octavio had developed taser weapons until then, so she might be higher up than I thought. Perhaps when she can talk again, she’ll give us a name.”

* * *

Eight didn’t feel good.

She decided very, very quickly that being hit with the nasty zappy weapon was something she absolutely did not want to experience ever again. Her entire inky body felt numb, and it felt like her octoling body didn’t even _exist_ , because she couldn’t morph back into it no matter how hard she tried. Part of her felt a deep inset panic at that, in case it was gone forever and she would be stuck in this form until her ink dried out and her along with it.

Marina had told her it would wear off, though. She trusted Marina. Loved her, even. She was family. Like Pearl, and Three, and her team.

She definitely did not love that other octoling. Quite the opposite, in fact. She rather did not like her. Anyone who would try to hurt Three like that was an absolutely awful person, and someone she definitely did not like. Therefore, more than deserving of the rather sloppy punch Eight had thrown at her. She would have done it again, if not for the fact that she suddenly stopped having arms.

Eight started to regain her ability to move when everyone was in the truck, which wasn’t very useful because moving when inside the truck was like being inside a tumble dryer. That was something Eight had experienced once, and it wasn’t nice, even if it was only for a few seconds. Her housemate Arty always double-checked the dryer before switching it on now.

Other than the group she’d just been with, as well as the Captain and Pearl, currently holding Eight in her arms, and Four, both of whom couldn’t change to octarian ink, the rest of the people taking the awful truck ride were the older octolings; the ones who struggled with transforming and would have difficulty with the inkrail. None of them were anywhere near as old as the Captain, or the older inklings Eight sometimes saw in Inkopolis, and for the first time she found herself wondering why she didn’t recall ever seeing an old octoling before. Hopefully that was just because of amnesia, and not because Octavio had done anything to them.

When the truck landed, it was at the platforms above the dome, where a purple swamp separated them and the octo city. The octolings didn’t fear it, as they could go for a swim in that ink sea if they so desired, but it was toxic to inklings, and that was enough to make Eight nervous for her friends.

Marina advised everyone to wait for a moment as she ventured out, the rogue octoling held firmly in her arms in such a way that she wouldn’t have been able to escape even if she hadn’t been stunned. Pearl, not trusting that nothing would happen to Marina if she wasn’t there to watch over her, got up to stand at the top of the truck’s ramp, with Eight still cradled against her chest. Eight wasn’t sure if she wanted to be out here, but her current lack of movement meant Pearl pretty much dictated where she went.

Marina approached the inexpressive octoling, Anten, who she seemed to have quickly befriended. Perhaps it was how calm and willing to accept the help they seemed; the other octolings often looked in their direction if they seemed unsure, their calmness reassuring in these uncertain times. As far as Eight could tell, they weren’t much older than Marina.

“ **Do you know who this one is**?” Marina asked, her octarian tongue sounding foreign to Eight even though she’d undoubtedly been raised among nothing but these words. The octopus in her grip grumbled unintelligibly, able to talk by now but refusing to out of spite. “ **She took a hostage and demanded we stop the mission.** ”

Anten stared at the octopus at Marina’s first question, which was likely a difficult one, since it could be hard sometimes to identify someone by their cephalopod form unless you knew them well. The extra information made them frown, however. “ **Ah. Margin. I had a feeling we were missing someone.** ”

“ **Don—nn—n’t talk to m—e.** ” Margin squirmed in Marina’s grip, her voice still jittery from the effects of the taser.

“ **I thought we should take her with us, but I don’t know if she poses a threat** _,_ ” Marina explained, holding her captive still with gentle force. Margin growled like a misbehaved child. “ **She tried to strangle one of our agents.** _”_

“ **That’s not very classy, Margin,** _”_ Anten tutted. _“_ **They’re trying to help us, you know.** _”_

“ **They are in—nklings,** ” Margin hissed. “ **They’ll n—never _help_ us. They’re here to—o _capture_ us all** _.”_

Anten rolled their eyes and held out their arms. “ **Give her here; we’ll make sure she stays out of trouble for now** _.”_

“ **Are you sure**?” Marina checked, but did as they asked anyway, even when Margin tried to cling to her arm with an octopus limb. Apparently she disliked Anten more than Marina.

“ **She won’t turn on us, I hope. She’d better not.** ” Anten threw a sharp glance at the creature in their arms as she tried to fight herself free, to what would only be wriggling around on the ground instead. “ **I assume you took the sea taser away. She looks like she was hit by it herself.** ”

“ **Yeah. That… may have been my doing. I didn’t want her to hurt my friends**.”

“ **I don’t blame you. She could use a taste of her own medicine**.” Anten grinned, and that was the most extreme emotion Eight had seen them show thus far. “ **Thanks, Marina**.”

“ ** _Marina_**?” Margin froze for a second, staring in disbelief at the octoling in front of them. Then she thrashed violently, finally freeing herself of Anten’s hold as she fell to the ground with a soft _plip,_ her octopus form shuddering as she fought her way out of it. Her octoling form emerged from ink, rippling as she tried to make it stay.

Eight felt Pearl’s arms close tighter around her, and she tensed as if ready to rush in and help should that octoling try anything with Marina.

There was nothing to worry about, though. Margin may have managed to transform, but as an octoling her body still wasn’t recovered from the electricity. Her legs gave way beneath her, and she fell to the ground, ending up on her knees and not nearly as intimidating as she probably wanted to be. “You _deserted_!” Her words switched to inkling as she glared up at Marina, eyes burning with hatred. “And you think you can return and get everyone under _your_ control?”

Marina blinked in surprise at the sudden change. “You speak inkling…” She got over her shock quickly, giving a small shake of her head. “But no, that’s not what my – or our – intentions are at all. The domes aren’t any place to live, Margin, haven’t you realised that?”

“The domes are where the inklings _forced_ us to live! Unless you forgot about the war where they tried to _eradicate_ all of us?”

“Things have changed in the past hundred years. The inklings around now have no problem with us on the surface. Octavio has been keeping you all down here under his control just because he wants power.”

“Don’t speak like you have _any_ idea what Octavio wants!” Margin snarled. “He wouldn’t want the octolings to grovel to the inklings for their lives!”

“What would he have done; waged another meaningless war?” Marina was not backing down, and watched the younger octoling with confidence in her gaze. “Octavio isn’t here. The octolings can make their own decisions whether to leave or stay, and everyone here decided with their own consciousness that they wanted to leave.”

“Octavio isn’t here, but _I_ _am_.” Margin didn’t waver, her glare strong even though she was still sat on the ground, and both smaller and younger than the octoling she was facing. “I was created from one of his limbs, and that makes _me_ their leader now. If I say they stay, they stay.”

Marina looked around at the gathered octolings. Eight followed her gaze. The few in the crowd that could understand the inkling words either looked disbelieving or simply rolled their eyes. “I don’t think _they_ see you as their leader.” She gave a small sigh. “You should come with us. We aren’t threatening anyone, I promise you – and I guarantee that the surface is a much better place to live than the domes. Anyone is free to return here if they so wish.” She held a hand out to the younger octoling. “Does that sound agreeable to you?”

Margin leaned away from her gesture, her glare remaining fierce. Yet she knew her act was failing; Marina wasn’t afraid of her, and neither were the octolings around them. She held no power over them, even if she believed she did. “Fine,” she muttered eventually, folding her arms around herself. It was a refusal to shake Marina’s hand, but it made her look even smaller. “I’ll play your game. But when Octavio returns, he _will_ make sure things are put right.”

* * *

Their part of the mission was over. Marina and Pearl were to guide the octolings to a safe place for them to stay; Eight had not seen the place herself, but what she knew about it was that Pearl had straight-up _bought_ a small abandoned hotel near the summit of Mount Nantai. It was to be a place for the octolings to stay until they could find their own homes within the city, and they were welcome to stay there as long as they pleased.

Sheldon dropped the rest of Squidbeak off at the outpost before heading back to aid with transport. Pearl had passed Eight over to Callie before she left with Marina and the Captain, and Eight had tried not to move a muscle ever since, in the arms of one of the idols she looked up to. Callie looked far from her upbeat persona now, though, watching silently as Four returned their weapons to the weather-beaten shack.

Three snatched her heroshot away from him before he could pick it up, shooting a wordless glare in his direction from where she sat on the bench outside the shack. Her breathing still seemed rough, but other than that, she was regular Three, maybe with a pinch or two of extra grumpiness, which nobody could really blame her for after what happened.

Four simply held up his hands. “Alright, alright, just don’t let anyone in the city see you carrying that thing.”

“I ain’t stupid.” Three fought off her cape – she’d adamantly kept that thing on despite it being around her neck – and bundled her heroshot and headphones in it like she’d done on the way here.

“Can you transform back yet?” Callie asked, and it wasn’t until she felt herself being lowered to the ground that Eight realised the idol was addressing her.

“U-um…” Eight curled in on herself a little, remembering the display Margin had pulled off earlier and hoping she wouldn’t make a fool of herself in front of the Squid Sisters.

It wasn’t like Marie was even paying attention anyway; she cast one singular worried look at Three, and from that point on seemed to be lost in her own world as she deliberately avoided looking at anyone else. The sleeve of her jacket was starting to fray from where she’d worried it, and a few blue-tinted marks near her elbow suggested another nervous habit was digging her nails into her arm.

Eight averted her gaze before she reached the point of rude staring, and focused on trying to re-find her octoling form. It came to her easier than she expected after how she’d felt earlier, and it was a great relief to find herself standing on two legs again, even if they still felt a little shaky, complete with arms and hands and better hearing from her actual ears. She breathed a small sigh of relief.

“Okay, good.” Callie patted her arm – a contact Eight hadn’t really been expecting and was almost thrown off-balance by. The pink inkling gave a friendly smile, which looked a little forced. “It should completely wear off soon. You’ll be alright.”

“Th-thank you.” Eight gave a small nod in appreciation and took a few shaky steps. Walking was finicky, but doable. Her instincts took her towards Three, because no matter how bad of a mood she was in, she was still the most familiar person here to Eight. She’d missed her a lot, too.

Three regarded her with a glance, but not much else before her eyes were back on the dusty floor of the outpost. Given how she’d acted towards everyone else today, Eight decided to take that as a compliment as she sat down more heavily than intended next to her.

Four, his self-assigned task finished, approached Marie. “You okay?” His voice was softer than usual, sensing her unease.

Marie startled at his words, and for a moment she seemed to stare through him, as if she were seeing something else than her friend. She blinked hard a moment later. “Yeah— yeah, yes, I’m fine. I just—it’s getting late, we need to get home. C’mon, Cal.” Without another word, she marched towards the grate leading back to the square, her stride holding a confidence her voice did not.

“Huh? Oh.” Callie didn’t question her hurry, throwing an apologetic glance at Four. “See you guys soon, okay?” She stopped briefly to give Jake a hug, and Four a one-armed one as she passed, and waved to Eight and Three who weren’t in her path as she jogged to catch up with her now-vanished cousin. “Call if you need anything! Swift recoveries.”

That first part was probably aimed at Three, since Eight didn’t have any way to contact Callie or Marie outside of trying to go through one of her friends who did. Three only gave a small huff in response, which went unnoticed as Callie dived through the grate in squid form.

After waiting a short while, probably for the others to reach the far end of the pipe and be some distance away, Three pushed herself up into standing with a grunt. “See ya whenever.”

“Where are you going?” Eight wanted to reach out to her, but was stopped by both her own jittery movement and knowing Three probably didn’t want to be touched.

“The valley. Where else?”

“Is it far?” Four asked. He seemed a lot less shaken up than everyone else, unsurprisingly, but Eight found his relative calmness soothing. Four seemed to have that effect a lot, she realised, once she’d gotten over the initial intimidation. “It’s getting dark, and you kinda went through some shit today. We can walk with you.”

“I’ll be fine. Besides, you think I want you knowing where I live?”

“Don’t you live at the Captain’s old shack?”

“Yeah, but you don’t know where that _is_.” Three gave him a contempt look. “If you’re that set on looking out for everyone then make sure Eight gets home safe. I wasn’t the one hit by a taser.”

And just like that, she was gone in a splash of yellow. Typical Three; stubborn when she was hurt and intent on pushing away anyone who tried to help. Eight had learned that part of her personality the hard way.

“Well then.” Four watched her go with what was probably a ‘fine, be that way’ look, and turned to Eight. “Do you think you can walk all the way home? I can carry you if not.”

Eight thought about this for a few seconds, and quickly decided that, while Four was nice and all, she didn’t really want to be carried by him for what was probably a twenty-minute walk. She shook her head. “I walk, thank you.”

“Alright. We can still walk with you, if you want. I don’t think you should have to walk home alone after taking a hit from that thing.”

“Someone trying to use sneaky tactics to find out where Chance lives?” Jake prodded his brother’s arm, with some kind of hidden meaning in his words that Eight didn’t understand. Why Chance? He lived in the same house as her; wouldn’t that just be finding out where she lived? Was he considered the owner of the house, somehow? If anything, she thought that was Mercedes.

“I am _not_ —shut.” Four apparently didn’t like whatever Jake was implying and shoved him hard in response, almost throwing him over. Eight was very glad she did not have siblings – or if she did, they were just other octolings made from the clippings of the same individual, and as far as her amnesiac brain could recall, that barely was ever acknowledged.

Unless you were created from Octavio, apparently. That seemed to be quite a big deal.

* * *

Walking across the city when the sun was barely out, and half the time feeling like your legs didn’t actually exist, was a really weird experience, and not one Eight wanted to have again. She tried her best, but her best was slow, and twice more on their journey Four asked if she wanted to be carried. She did not.

“You can carry _me_ if you want,” Jake muttered, looking tired. “My legs hurt.”

“Okay,” Four shrugged, slinging his brother’s squid form over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Eight decided to assume he wouldn’t have done that to her if she’d accepted his offer.

“Thanks. Your people-carrying etiquette could use some work,” Jake grumbled. He stayed there for a whole of two minutes before deciding walking was less uncomfortable and sliding off.

Eight was a little worried at first that she wouldn’t be able to find her own house in the dark; she had only lived here for a few weeks, and the latest she’d been out was one time when Arty had forgotten to do groceries and wanted her to help him “speedrun” them before Mercedes got home from her late shift at work. Even then, they’d got home with light still in the sky. Now, the streetlamps were on and turning everything a washed-out white, making a few of the landmarks Eight had remembered less recognisable.

Eventually, after just sort of guessing a lot of the time when Four asked for directions, she found her way. ‘Mace House’, as Arty now insisted on calling it much to everyone’s chagrin, was a twenty-minute-but-not-if-walking-is-difficult walk from the square, on a cul-de-sac where all the houses were connected and had the same two-story design with only a few differences between them. Thank goodness for house numbers, or Eight would have struggled considerably more when the curtains were closed and she couldn’t see Tweetless’ bird cage on a second floor window.

“Nice place,” Four commented as he looked at the surroundings. Lowering his voice a little, he added, “my wallet is already crying thinking about how much the rent is here.”

“Probably less painful when you live with three other people and not just one stinky brother,” Jake said with a shrug.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, bro, you don’t smell _that_ bad.”

Jake punched his arm.

“Anyway, we gotta get home.” Four continued talking like normal as he held his attacker at arm’s length. “Feel better soon, see you… whenever we next see you, I guess.” He waved as he turned to leave, as did Jake.

Eight decided not to point out that she had no control over how soon she recovered from this, because that was probably a well wish rather than an order, and waved back. She waited until their backs were turned and they were a good distance away before finally approaching the door.

It was late, and all the lights were off except the hallway one she could see through the frosted glass of the front door. Eight didn’t yet have her own set of keys for the place; Mercedes had promised to sort that out for her, but for a lot of the three weeks Eight had been here she’d either been away visiting her parents for the winter holidays or busy with work, and hadn’t gotten around to it yet. So, Eight either didn’t go out alone, or she relied on there being someone inside the house when she returned to let her in.

Given the lack of lights in the windows, Arty and Chance were probably asleep. Eight felt a little bad waking them just to let her in, especially when they both had to get up early for work. She decided against the doorbell, and tapped on the door a few times at what she figured would be the loudest possible noise that wouldn’t wake someone sleeping. There was no sound from inside, though, no sign of someone going to open the door for her.

Well… that was okay. The space in the road in front of the house was empty; Mercedes wasn’t back yet. Eight could just wait for her to return. She shakily sat down on the steps, almost falling against the door as her legs decided they were done cooperating with her after she made them walk here.

Eight pulled her knees in close and her hands inside the sleeves of her shirt, which was a little dusty after being in the domes. When winter first set in, she had been fascinated by the coolness in the breeze, how naked the trees looked when their leaves were gone, and the frost that formed on the plants every morning. Now, stuck outside when it was dark, the cool breeze had turned into a bitter chill that nipped her ears, the trees dotted along the pavement were ominous shapes, and she wondered if _she_ would turn to frost if she stayed out here too long.

She found her thoughts drifting to the domes. There wasn’t much she could remember, just that the still air and the smell were definitely familiar, so she _had_ lived down there at some point. Yet none of the octolings she’d seen brought back any memories, and none of them looked at her with the same recognition as they did Marina. Even Margin, who apparently had some kind of personal vendetta against Three, hadn’t reacted with any kind of recognition to her. Perhaps she’d just been an extremely boring and ordinary soldier, so nobody remembered her at all.

That was okay. She had friends now.

Even if Margin had tried to kill one of them today.

Eight was very unhappy about that. She didn’t know why Margin hated Three so much. Of course, she _was_ Agent 3, and probably pretty renowned among the octolings, and… granted, she didn’t tend to make a good impression on a lot of people, but… that didn’t warrant trying to kill her, especially not in such an awful way. What if she tried to do that again?

_Three is strong,_ Eight tried to reassure herself. _She just… got taken by surprise, and Margin was able to pin her down because of that, and Three will know better next time and it won’t happen again, right?_

It felt like her whole body was shaking again. Eight felt tears welling up in her eyes and blinked furiously to keep them away, in case they could make her eyes freeze, because that also sounded not very nice.

The rumbling of cars in the distance grew louder, and Eight lifted her head as she heard the sound of an engine turning down this street. The headlights obscured it from her vision at first, but as it drew closer she recognised she sleek blue vehicle. It swerved easily into parking in front of the house, the neighbours still away for the holidays and not there to make parallel parking more difficult.

“Hey Eight,” Mercedes greeted her as she climbed out, swinging the door shut behind her and pressing the button on her set of keys that made the car lights flash and make the funny quiet little ‘bloop’ noise that Eight usually found unnecessarily amusing for a lock system. “How long have you been out here? You know the others are in.”

“They’re asleep.” Eight pulled herself back up with the aid of the short railing next to the front steps, hoping Mercedes wasn’t paying enough attention to her to realise her movement was slightly impaired.

“That’s why the doorbell is loud. So people hear it.” Merce tapped on the box surrounding the button, and for an anxious moment Eight thought she was going to ring it just to show her, and then Eight really would have felt bad about waking the others. She didn’t, fortunately, and instead twisted her keys into the front door with some effort. “I really gotta get you some keys. And… maybe get this lock checked out so it doesn’t keep jamming like this.” A shove from her shoulder flung the door open, and she just managed to catch it before it could hit the wall inside. She beckoned to her housemate. “C’mon. You’re letting the cold air in.”

Eight responded with an apologetic nod, squeezing past her to get into the house. She wanted nothing more than to go and hide in her room, but… _stairs_.

“You have anything to eat while you were out?” Mercedes checked as she headed for the kitchen. “I forgot where you said you were going; something with Rollo and the others?”

“No,” Eight responded, deciding to answer her first question, since she didn’t really have an explanation.

“No food or no Rollo?”

“No food. He was there.” She took a seat at the table, because Mercedes was rifling through the fridge right now and that kind of prevented the whole ‘get food’ thing just yet anyway, and also she really didn’t want to stand any longer. At the very least, she took her skull bandanna off, because whenever she did eat anything – even though she didn’t feel much like doing that right now – she wouldn’t be able to with that on.

“I got some leftover pizza from earlier if you want me to reheat that for you?” Merce offered, taking a microwaveable plate out of the fridge. Presumably there was pizza on it, but Eight couldn’t see from here. “Pepperoni. I’m basic.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

Eight stopped watching her, because she was pretty sure if you did that for long enough it was considered staring, and heard the beeping of the microwave followed by the quiet hum as it began its job. She startled as a chair scraped against the floor next to her.

“Somethin’ happen?” Mercedes dropped down into said chair, folding her arms on the table. “Because you look like somethin’ happened. What’s up?”

For a moment Eight only stared at her, a little distraught that it had been that obvious and trying to work out what on earth she could even say. She couldn’t tell Mercedes about the Squidbeak Splatoon, or the domes, or the mission, or anything like that. In fact, she couldn’t really remember if she’d even told much of an alibi earlier, or just that she was going out. The most basic explanation would have to do. “Someone tried to… hurt Thr— Faye.” _No agent names, no agent names._

“Oh, damn.” Mercedes’ expression creased with a hint of worry. “Is she okay? Was it someone she knew?”

“She said she is.” Eight gave a small nod. “I… don’t know.”

“Poor squid,” Merce sympathised, and Eight could only imagine the glare Three would give her if she said that to her face. “Still, she strikes me as the kind who won’t take shit from anyone, so I’ll bet she’s fine. If it happens again, though, you let me know, a’ight?” She gave Eight’s shoulder a comforting pat. “Any friend of yours is a friend of ours, and friends look out for each other.”

“… Okay.” Eight nodded again, not intending to take her up on that offer at all. She didn’t know how dangerous Margin truly was; perhaps she’d settle down now she was outside the octarian city, but Eight didn’t want her anywhere near her friends.

* * *

She didn’t have control over her own movement, like some otherworldly force had taken over her body and was forcing it to do her bidding.

Her face burned. Her head pulsed with the fiercest migraine.

Blueish-green ink stained the floor around her.

Some of the blue wasn’t ink.

There were people trying to stop her, but she wouldn’t let them.

Lashed out, punched, shot, anything to keep them out of her path.

What was she even trying to do? She couldn’t remember. Her head hurt. The whole area around her right eye stung like hell.

They lay on the ground, her victims, beaten and bloodied and smeared with her turquoise ink.

Her ink wasn’t supposed to be that colour.

She could recognise them. She remembered fighting them. She _was_ fighting them. She didn’t care, they had to be destroyed, but why?

_Eight._

Her opponent kept changing. They were everyone all at once but also clearly defined, and none of them could win.

_Marina. The Captain. Eight. Four. Callie. Pearl. Eight again. Marie. Marie. Marie._

Then the whole world changed, and was dark, and a whole lot more real, and Faye flung herself up into sitting as she gasped for breath.

It was quiet, now.

The cabin. That was where she was.

It took her a moment, shaking every limb to make sure she had full control over it, staring at the tendrils of her hair in the dim light to make sure they were yellow and not green, holding a hand to the right side of her face to make sure there was nothing there except burned skin despite the pounding in her head…

_A nightmare. A fucking nightmare._ Faye sucked in a deep breath, feeling a slight sting in her neck which was almost certainly going to bruise, if it hadn’t already. She hadn’t had nightmares about that _phone_ or what it had done to her in months. Holding her hands up again, just to check she could still move her fingers, she realised they were shaking.

One small octoling child had managed to do all this to her? Geez.

She let out a small pathetic laugh as she flopped back unceremoniously onto the lumpy mattress, feeling gross from the cold sweat of her nightmare and the awful stench of the underground city that clung to her after her tussle yesterday. When she got back here, she’d been too exhausted and sore to do anything except throw on some clean underwear and crawl into bed, but now the urge to take a shower was almost overwhelming.

The electricity got finicky at night, though, especially now it was winter, and the cabin was already freezing. Taking a shower with cold water in this place in the middle of winter sounded like a sure-fire way to get hypothermia. She was just going to have to put up with smelling bad until the morning.

Besides, it wasn’t as if she hadn’t put up with that for years. The awful stench that never seemed to leave her clothes no matter what she did, back when she lived in her mother’s house.

_No. No, we’re not thinking about that now, there’s already been one nightmare tonight._ The headache stopped her from smacking her own face to try and divert her thoughts before everything could just become way too much. She wanted to sleep it off, she still felt exhausted, but she knew she wasn’t going to be able to fall back asleep for a short while. Maybe she should at least _try_ and heat up some water…

Getting up felt like too much of a chore as well, though. Her body had decided it wanted rest. Okay. It was going to have to settle for rest while she stared at the ceiling and tried to find something not upsetting to think about.

Of course, her immediate first thought was Marie, which rather annoyed her. Her brain just _had_ to remind her of the fight they’d had earlier. Faye, ruining everything again with her stupid attitude. She really hated herself sometimes.

Her gaze instinctively went to her phone; the cracked screen kept lighting up every few minutes, every time there was enough power for the charger to start actually working again. Faye reached over and plucked the thing off its cable, deciding that 37% was probably enough for it to survive until the sun came up.

[03:47] Hey. Sorry for snapping at you like that earlier. You were just trying to help and it was a kinda stupid thing for me to get upset over

After a few minutes of reading the message over and over, and having to stop the screen dimming out into sleep mode more times than she could care to count, Faye finally tapped send. Even if she’d messed up, at least she could feel less guilty about it now she’d apologised. Phone still in hand, she rolled onto her side, pulling her blanket up against the cold. That had been enough of a distraction to calm her for now, at least, so perhaps she could finally get some actual sleep.

Surprisingly, her phone buzzed with a notification a few minutes later. Apparently she wasn’t the only one awake at… almost 4AM.

[03:49] its okay

[03:49] I only told Callie about what happened last month because I was worried

[03:49] well and she kinda pestered me to but I promise I don’t tell her everything just important stuff

[03:49] not like personal stuff about other people I care about

[03:50] you care abt me? aww thats sweet

[03:50] yeah I am capable of caring about other ppl

[03:50] unexpected I know

[03:50] is that a dig at me or yourself I cant tell

[03:50] me sorry

[03:50] are you okay? After everything

[03:50] im fine. Are YOU okay?? That was like a hostage situation man it was awful

[03:51] why do you think im awake at 4am

[03:51] actually scratch that im usually awake at 4am anyway

[03:51] but yeah ill live

[03:51] anyway gramps sent me a text message. Not at 4am but it was still an incredibly jarring experience

[03:51] from the part of it that actually made sense I think he was offering for us to go up to the place they have the octolings tomorrow. Youre welcome to go if you want but if youre not feeling up to it that’s fine too

[03:51] what time

[03:52] he just said ‘afternoon’ grandparents aren’t helpful. Esp thru text

[03:52] idk if ill go yet. It was just to check the place out anyhow not urgent

[03:52] I might go ill decide tmr. im tired n wanna sleep more

[03:52] maybe see u maybe not

[03:52] sweet dreams xx

[03:52] you too

[03:53] <3

Faye was surprised, and a little embarrassed, to find herself smiling just from seeing an emote on her screen. She didn’t really care much, shaken and tired and fully aware that it was very late and there was absolutely nobody within a large radius to see her. Knowing that Marie didn’t hate her after today was… calming. She hadn’t ruined things after all. That was nice.

Eyelids drooping, she placed her phone back on the side table, and moments after that she drifted off into a nightmare-less sleep that would last her until morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love faye splatoon a lot I think she is very good


	4. Home Sweet Home

“You ain’t even giving her training wheels?”

“There’s no time for that, Pearlie, we’re just finding out if she can ride one or not.”

Eight ignored their bickering as she focussed on working out how one was supposed to sit on a bike. There was a nice stretch of driveway here, outside Pearl’s mansion, and although the ground was flat, it did promise a hard landing and some scrapes if she fell off.

Today was the day she was going to see the octolings’ new home. It was up on the far side of Mount Nantai, somewhere Eight had heard about but never actually been to herself, and according to Four, there were a few biking paths up through it, and a cheap rental place at the bottom of the mountain. He and his brother planned on riding up there, and extended the offer for Eight to go with them. Pearl had offered her and Marina a lift there, but Marina had been intrigued by the bike ride as well; she often rode her motorbike around town, but rarely had the chance to go cycling.

Now, Eight was perched on Marina’s bicycle, trying to work out how on earth she was supposed to make this thing move. Marina was only a few inches taller than her, but the bike felt massive, and Eight was a little afraid to remove her feet from the ground. Wouldn’t she just fall over? Was that why she had this ugly-looking helmet on her head?

The garage door creaked as Pearl leant against it, folding her arms. “Face it, Marina, not everyone is a total genius like you who can ride a bike!”

“You don’t need to be a genius to ride a bike, Pearl,” Marina tutted, and gave her a knowing smile. “You’re just too afraid to take the training wheels off yours.”

“Uh, yeah, because maybe I don’t _want_ to fall off!”

Marina rolled her eyes, turning back to Eight and placing one hand on the handlebars. “Ignore her. Try putting your feet on the pedals?”

Eight did as she asked, and knew immediately that if Marina hadn’t been holding onto the bike, it would have tilted over and thrown her onto the ground. She experimentally pushed the pedals one way – they rotated and did nothing – and then the other, which required some force, so she gave it some.

The bike jerked forward so fast she almost tore it out of Marina’s grip. It careened sideways, and Eight yelped in fear and clung onto Marina’s arm.

The older octoling hurriedly used her other hand to stop the bike falling on her. “… Okay,” she said evenly. “I don’t think you learnt how to ride a bike.”

“Was I supposed to?” Eight gave her a nervous look but was otherwise frozen in place, afraid that one wrong move might upset the equilibrium and she’d faceplant the ground. Or fall on Marina. Or cause Marina to faceplant the ground.

“No, no, it’s okay.” Marina, holding the bike in a more balanced position so Eight could climb off without falling, gave her a soft smile. “Bicycles were a popular way of getting around the underground city, so a lot of octolings learnt how to ride them, but… not all. Or maybe the saying about never forgetting how to ride a bike is wrong? I think that’s an inkling one.”

“All that fancy tech, and you decide to use bicycles,” Pearl tutted, watching Eight fight her way off the bike and looking ready to dive and catch her if she fell. “Not, like, super spy cars.”

“Cars need power,” Marina reasoned. She patted Eight’s shoulder to make sure she was okay, and went to readjusting the seat back to the height she had it at before. “There wasn’t enough electricity to power them, and fuel was difficult to come by and would ruin the air even more.”

“Oh.” Pearl grimaced, remembering the still and smelly air of the domes. “Yeah, I can imagine why you wouldn’t wanna make that worse.”

“Eight, I think you could definitely learn how to ride a bike if you wanted to, but not within the next half hour. You want to ride in the basket?” Marina patted the woven box attached to the front of the handlebars; it was padded inside, and Eight had no doubt she’d done that specifically so that Pearl could go with her on bike rides.

“Okay.” Eight nodded happily, relieved that she wouldn’t have to try and learn how to cycle up a mountain today. She shrank into octopus form and let Marina bundle her into the basket.

“Hmm. You’re a little bigger than Pearl,” Marina commented. The basket was a little cramped, but not painfully so. Eight settled down into it; it was quite snug, actually. “Make sure you hold on; I don’t want you falling out and getting squished under a wheel.”

Oh. This was terrifying too, actually. Eight looped her biggest limbs over the edge of the basket.

“You two have fun on your mother-daughter bonding trip,” Pearl joked. “I’m gonna travel in _style_. See you at the top.” She held her hands up in ‘rock on’ gesture as she marched away, presumably in the direction of whatever ‘stylish’ travel she had planned.

“See you later, sweetie!” Marina beamed over her shoulder, and Pearl looked back for a few seconds to blow her a kiss.

A few moments later, after another warning for safety from Marina, they were off. The basket rattled a little when they left the driveway, but after that, it was a smoother ride than Eight expected. That might change when they reached the edge of the city and the ground beneath the bike wasn’t sort-of-smooth roads.

Eight turned a little in the basket, trying not to think too much about how Marina managed to keep the bike upright because it only made her worry they might suddenly tip over without a moment’s notice, and watched the tops of trees and buildings pass by. This was a new and interesting angle to see Inkopolis from. The sky was dotted with grey clouds but the sun shone through, casting just a little warmth after yesterday’s empty threat of snow. Many storms had been foreshadowed by the magic future-seeing shark on the television – Marina had tried to explain to her that it wasn’t magic, they were using fancy scientific methods to predict what would happen, but Eight had tuned her out along with the channel because it was all kind of boring to her – but today, it seemed, was going to be a nice day.

“You alright?” Marina asked her with a smile when their eyes met briefly, because Marina’s face also happened to be in the general direction of ‘above’. Her helmet was a lot nicer-looking than the one she’d given Eight, adorned with pink and green stickers that Eight couldn’t decide if were supposed to be in reference to her and Pearl or the Squid Sisters.

“Yes.” Eight didn’t know how far it was to the base of the mountain, but she’d heard stories from Pearl about how she’d often snuck out at night to sing (read: scream) there, so it probably wasn’t far. She heaved herself back up to watch out the front of the basket again to see where they were going. It wasn’t going to be long before they met up with the others, and they were moving at a speed where it would be difficult for anyone else to eavesdrop, so this was as good a time as any to try and get some answers to the questions that’d plagued her since yesterday. “Do you know who I was?”

“Who you were?” Marina frowned, but didn’t look at her, too focussed on making sure she took the correct route and didn’t crash, which was something Eight definitely also appreciated. “I don’t think we’d met before the metro, if that’s what you mean?”

“Oh. Okay.” Well… it kind of was. Marina, as far as she knew, had been somewhat of a celebrity among the octarians before she deserted. A lot of them seemed to still look up to her even now.

“Something on your mind? You can tell me if something’s bothering you.”

Everyone around Eight was so _observant_. Perhaps she should try harder to look normal when she was overthinking things. “Was I supposed to recognise people yesterday?”

“There’s quite a few octolings,” Marina shrugged as she paused at a fork in the road to read the signs. “Maybe if you weren’t close friends with them, that fall into the metro could have wiped them from your memory and they weren’t important enough to come back.”

“Perhaps I did not have friends.” Eight shrank a little further down into the basket. “I don’t think anybody knew me yesterday either.”

“They were missing out; you make a wonderful friend,” Marina assured. “Now that Octavio isn’t controlling them, maybe you can make some new friends! I’m sure they’d love to get to know you, and you could give them advice on adjusting to life on the surface!”

“Maybe.” Making new friends was an interesting thought, but Eight was content with the amount of friends she had now. Not to mention, giving advice sounded like a very big responsibility she was not at all looking forward to.

* * *

The only sound in the room was the quiet rumble of mechanics as the test dummies trundled back and forth, their paths unbroken no matter how much a beating they took. A glowing light, the silence broken by the crack of a charger, and as the three of their paths crossed, they all immediately burst with a resounding _pop_.

_Well, at least I can still aim._ Marie breathed out a deep sigh as she waited for the dummies to automatically reform. She spent this extra time staring at the weapon in her hands; not her own charger but one she’d borrowed from Sheldon for use in his test range, which had more or less the same specifications as hers did but for one difference.

These ones could hold a charge for a second while in squid form – which sounded horrifying to her, as much as she struggled to use that form, but she needed to practice more. Not only was it _very_ inconvenient to not have an easy escape, as she’d especially learnt in the past year, but she absolutely did _not_ want her ink to dry up and cause her to turn into a wrinkly old mess like her grandfather before the acceptable age of ‘being a wrinkly old mess’. Marie wasn’t sure if that was something that could happen, but did she want to risk it? No.

She took a deep breath and let the weapon charge. _Okay. You can do this. It’s not that difficult._

Waiting for a moment until she thought the three dummies would become aligned again, she plunged into the ink at her feet, forcing her squid form to swim through it despite the obscene amount of effort it seemed to take, and burst out a second later to set off the weapon.

Except nothing happened, because either it had been too long or she wasn’t able to hold both the charge and a cephalopod shape. Her legs didn’t adjust back quite in time to work as legs, and she was sent to the inky ground. _Ow._ The ink didn’t cushion the fall at all.

In fact, knowing the ink was probably going to make it harder to get up again, Marie accepted her fate and rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling and rubbing her arm where it’d hit the ground. She was so _tired_. Sleep had only blessed her for a whole of maybe three hours last night, after which she’d become far too restless and given up trying to get more, and headed over to Sheldon’s when she knew he’d be there before the store officially opened for the day. He would probably come by to kick her out of here in a few minutes, but she didn’t quite have the energy to try the swim-sniping thing again. She would just have to try and guess when he’d show up so he didn’t see her on the ground and think she was dead or something. That would be a very Sheldon thing to assume.

Lack of sleep wasn’t the only reason she was tired. There was also… _agent_ work. The Agent 1 and 2 act started as a silly thing Callie had roped her into back when they were young enough that it seemed like a game to them, but over the years it had become more serious. Serious enough that Marie had a gun pointed at her head yesterday, not to mention all the stuff with Callie being kidnapped and the octarians making their _machine_ and using it on Agent 4 last year. Marie already had enough stress trying to keep up with the tight schedule from work; she really didn’t want to fear for her and her cousin’s lives every day too.

“ _Here_ you are! What the heck are you _doing_!?”

Oh. Speak of the devil. “Hey Cal.” Marie turned her head to the side, saw it was just Callie approaching and not Sheldon with her, and decided she couldn’t be bothered getting up. “Lying on the ground, I guess.” Callie had undoubtedly seen her do more stupid things than that before.

“I spent _half an hour_ searching for you and you’re just… lying in a puddle of ink in Sheldon’s back room. Thank you _so much_ , Marie. I really wanted my morning to start off with fear and panic.”

Marie frowned. “I sent you a text saying I was going out for a while.”

“You couldn’t be more specific?” Callie huffed, looking uncharacteristically pissed off as she dropped to the ground, crossing her legs under her at the edge of the ink so she wouldn’t have to turn hers green. Marie did feel a little guilty; it wasn’t often that Callie looked _angry_ , so she must have been worried. “And you didn’t respond when I asked! You never even get out of bed before I’m awake, let alone leave the house. I thought that octoling from yesterday had done something to you.”

“I’m fine. Sorry.” Marie pushed herself up at last, experiencing the gross feeling of ink soaking her clothes before it would evaporate without a trace. She shook the back of her shirt a little to help it along. “Guess I could’ve just said I was coming here. Didn’t think.”

“Are you okay?” Callie’s expression softened a little, as if she’d just noticed how tired her cousin looked.

“Sure.”

“I’ll take that as a no.” Callie reached over and patted her shoulder, drew her hand back at the slight sting of a foreign ink colour, gave a regretful look down at her not-Callie-designated-acceptable-for-green-ink outfit, and matched her ink to Marie’s so she could do it again. “Are you upset about yesterday?”

“No, I _love_ being held hostage at gunpoint.” Marie rolled her eyes. “And shouted at, and forced to spend time with _Pearl_ , and thrown to the ground in a place where everything smells like trash. Ten out of ten, let me relive that every day.”

“… Yeah, definitely yesterday.” Callie gave a wry smile. She looked a little tired too, Marie noticed; Callie probably hadn’t gotten much nightmare-free sleep either. “What _did_ happen yesterday? I never asked.”

“Cal, you were there. An octoling threatened to kill me, remember?”

“No, no, before that.” Callie waved her hands. “Above the city. You went out to talk to Faye and when you came back you were in one of your _Marie_ _moods_.” When Marie only glanced away at the slowly-dissipating ink on the floor, Callie frowned. “Not to be unsupportive, but… I think, maybe… you should, y’know, give up on the crush thing?”

Marie couldn’t tell if what Callie had said made little sense, or if she was just too tired to understand. Probably the latter. “The what?”

“You know… Faye. Like, you know I love and support you and all, but… she got real mad at you just because you told me something? I dunno, it just… doesn’t sound like a healthy relationship.”

“It’s _not_ a relationship,” Marie huffed. She could practically _sense_ Callie trying to observe her every reaction for denial, but it was the truth. “Anyway, not everyone is like you, Miss I-Have-A-Crush-On-Someone-Different-Every-Week. I’ve been trying to get over this for _three_ _years_.”

Callie pulled a sulky face at the nickname – it wasn’t like it was _wrong_ – and sighed. “Maybe you just… need to find someone else you like? Rollo has some cute friends.”

“Four’s friends all know each other – and they think I’m just some quiet squid from out of town who happens to have the colourless gene and is definitely not a celebrity.” Marie scoffed, resting her chin on a hand. That was one of the things she liked about Faye; she _knew_ who Marie really was, there was no hiding and fearing how she might react to her true identity. Not to mention the fact that she was generally pretty chill, was a good friend, nice to spend time with, strong, beautiful, and _man this really isn’t fair._ “… She did apologise. For getting mad. I think she knew it was an overreaction, she was just… upset by something else.” _Because she was the only one in the whole of Squidbeak who wasn’t called for the mission._

“Well… I’m glad she apologised to you.” Callie fiddled with the hem of her sleeve, a hint of bitterness lacing her tone. Perhaps Faye had been particularly cold to her yesterday too, which wouldn’t have been a stretch for Marie to imagine, but somehow bothered her more than any bad blood Faye might get with her.

If Marie did end up with someone someday, she absolutely wanted them to be on good terms with her cousin. She had witnessed and felt the consequences of what could happen when a close family member got into a relationship with someone the other didn’t like. That was what had drawn a rift between their mothers – and though that was probably a big reason why she and Callie had ended up so close in the first place, the thought of that same thing happening to them terrified her.

Marie let out another sigh. “Everything’s just… complicated.” There was definitely _something_ that had changed about Faye. The three of them had actually been somewhat good friends (for the standards of Marie who rarely communicated with anyone outside of work) before the final splatfest. It might have just been the passage of time, it could have been something to do with whatever event had put a massive scar on the agent’s face. Marie had tried getting info from her grandfather over what had happened on the ‘classified’ mission, but he’d skirted around the details in much the same way she and Callie had done over the events of last year to him. It was a stalemate, really, but she didn’t want to put any more stress on his old body by letting him know how close they’d been to dying at Octavio’s hands. His _literal_ hands, which he actually had, which she really didn’t want to think about. “At least – I hope – we don’t have much agent stuff to do anymore.”

“Not now the octolings are free!” At least Callie seemed to perk up a little at that reminder. “Did you want to come up to the place they’re at today? I can report back on what it’s like if you’d rather stay behind.”

“Nah, I’ll sit this one out, I think.” Marie didn’t want to admit that she’d been firmly planning on giving this a miss ever since the thought of crossing _that octoling_ again made its way into her mind. Plus, she was really tired. Travelling up to the mountains and trying to communicate with people, some of whom she could barely understand, sounded much too overwhelming for her right now. “Don’t travel there alone though, alright?”

“I wanted to go with Jake and Rollo, but they’re _cycling_ up there,” Callie sulked. She could very much not ride a bike. “The only person who offered a lift was Pearl.”

“… Yeah, no. Absolutely do not travel _anywhere_ with Pearl.”

* * *

When Marina and her passenger arrived, Four and Jake were cycling laps around an almost empty car park within sight of the bicycle rental store. Marina flicked a little silver device on one of her handlebars, and Eight almost jumped out of the basket in surprise at the shrill noise the bell gave off. So, bikes could scream. That was a lesson learned for the day.

The bike path up the mountain was a lot rougher than the city roads, and Eight clung tightly to the basket as it jostled her around. She watched the surroundings as they passed, which were mostly trees and grass in this first section, and tried to not think about whether this was worse than the flying truck or not. At least there were checkpoint signs along the trail, so she knew she only had… another two sections of this to go. Great.

“Race you to the next one!” Jake called out once they hit the first checkpoint, where the trees were starting to thin out and give way to hills. The ground was flatter here, fortunately, with less leaves and roots.

“Oh, you’re _on_!” Four grinned, darting out ahead.

“Yeah, you’re gonna need that head start!” Jake taunted, speeding up on the bicycle that, though Eight was no expert, looked a little big for someone his size.

“Bold words coming from someone with tiny legs!”

“I will _push_ _you_ _off_ that bike.”

“You gotta catch me first!”

Eight braced herself, eyes wide with fear as she anticipated the sudden terrifying rush as Marina joined in the race, but to her relief, the older octoling just laughed at the brothers’ antics. “We’ll catch up to you!”

Phew. A narrow escape.

There was a lot more to see in the second part of the trail, and it was easier _to_ see when the world wasn’t shaking around quite so much. Behind them, Eight could see one of the impressive bridges that led back to Inkopolis, which they’d crossed on the way here. Somewhere, in that large body of water below it, laid the ruins of the NILS statue. She was pretty sure some of it was still visible above the surface, but without knowing exactly where, she couldn’t see it. Hopefully that meant people wouldn’t question what it was.

In the distance, separated from the mountain by a much smaller river, Eight could just about see the odd-looking rock formation at the top of Octo Valley. She wondered if Three would decide to join them today, and also if she was _okay_ after what happened yesterday. Eight suddenly felt a lot more apprehensive about going to this place, knowing Margin was going to be there.

Distracting herself from her thoughts, Eight looked around to find what else she could see. As they travelled around the side of the mountain, she could see what was in the distance on the far side; not much more than emptiness in the distance, the occasional river or hill or tree, but a mile or so out there were a bunch of tall black spires. They were spaced a fair distance apart but close enough together that they formed a clear line.

“What are those?” Eight asked. Realising Marina would have no idea what she was talking about, she elaborated. “The big black towers. Past the valley.”

The bike slowed for a moment as Marina safely looked to what had her attention. “Hmm? Oh, the barrier.”

“Barrier?”

“That’s what Pearl called it when I asked.” Marina gave a small shrug. “She didn’t know what it was for, but apparently it has no effect on any of us. It goes all the way around the city.”

That sounded… weird. Why would someone build something like that if it didn’t _do_ anything? “Okay. I think.”

When they caught up with the boys at the second checkpoint, a plateau with a great view, Jake looked out of breath but very proud of himself. Four had a minor scrape on his leg, and Eight wondered if he’d fallen on his own or if Jake had actually been serious about pushing him off the bike.

“Jake won, I take it?” Marina asked with amusement in her eyes as she slid in next to them.

“Only _barely_. I would’ve won if I hadn’t slipped,” Four huffed, answering that question. “This cold-hearted squid just left me behind.”

“You weren’t _dying_ ,” Jake scoffed. He disregarded his brother, looking out into the distance. “Inkopolis has a beast guard too, huh?”

“A what?” Marina tilted her head in confusion. “Oh! You mean the barrier? Eight was just asking me about it. Do you know what it does?”

“Yeah. It keeps the monsters out.”

Silence.

“… _Monsters_?” Eight shrank into the basket.

“Come on, Jakey, no need to be so dramatic.” Four reached over to swipe his brother’s shoulder. “Yeah, there was a ‘beast guard’ near our hometown.” He held up his hands in quotation marks at the term. “It’s more like a giant bug zapper, really. There’s a lot of weird creatures out in the wilderness. Supposedly it’s because of stuff the humans left behind. The one near us mostly just caught weird lizards with extra limbs. Their bites tend to infect real easily, so barriers get put up in populated areas to stop them getting too near to everyone.”

“I saw a real big one once,” Jake added. “It was _creepy_. Kinda cool though.”

“I still say you imagined it. You biked all the way out near the barrier, you must have been exhausted. Plus you can barely see in the first place.”

“I have _glasses_ , mister I-think-I-have-perfect-vision-just-because-one-eye-still-works.” Jake stuck his tongue out at him. “I _know_ what I saw.”

“Well, anyway,” Four waved him off. “I doubt there’s much out here. This whole place is kinda like a small island compared to where we used to live. There was a whole lot of desert for weird things to grow.”

* * *

The final stretch of the journey was pretty quiet, now that the squids had tired themselves out with their race. Eight tried not to think too much about what kind of _monsters_ might be hiding out beyond the city; the surface had seemed so nice and friendly, the scariest thing being the salmonids – maybe they were the monsters? Grizzco sent their workers outside the city limits to gather eggs. _No, no monsters, please. I do not wish to think about monsters._

Eventually they reached the end of the bike trail, and dismounted as Marina led the way through the leafless trees. Eight hopped from the basket now they were moving at a walking place, glad to stretch her octoling limbs again.

The place they were heading to loomed ahead in a large groove in the side of the mountain. There was a dirt road leading down from it, but it didn’t look like it had been used in a long time. An overgrown garden bordered a giant three-story building, with plants growing up the walls and most of the windows boarded up, some of them with missing boards. A sign hung on the wall next to the biggest door at the front, but it was so rusted it was impossible to read.

“They live _here_?” Four shot Marina a surprised glance as they parked their bikes against an old fence.

She gave a half-hearted smile. “It’s big enough to hold everyone. Anyway, it’ll be fine with a little work. Pearl and I went through the place with a vacuum a few days ago.” Marina gave a small laugh. “And by that I mean Pearl gave up after two minutes and hired five people to do it for her.”

Four rolled his eyes. “Rich people.”

On a rickety old bench in the old hotel’s what-could-vaguely-be-described-as-a-garden, Three was sat looking at her phone. She looked up at the sound of footsteps against the gravel path and, somewhat reluctantly, pushed herself up, brushing the dust from the old bench off her jeans. She didn’t have her agent gear today, just an old sweater and the straw boater she often wore around town. It was at an angle, as usual, to shadow the scar on her face.

“Hey, Three,” Marina waved to her. “Why are you waiting out here? It’s cold.”

“I doubt it’s much warmer inside,” Three shrugged. “Besides, I don’t think the octolings will be glad to see me.”

“We managed to get the power back on, so the heating _should_ work – and they know Squidbeak is here to help them now.” Marina patted Three’s shoulder as she passed, which made the squid stiffen a little. “Come on. I want to see if any of them have made changes to the place since yesterday.”

Three let out an overdramatic sigh and followed her.

Eight hadn’t seen the old hotel before to know what it had previously looked like, but when they entered through the front doors, the reception room had been mostly peeled of its dreary-coloured wallpaper, leaving the pale cream underneath. One octoling was working on tearing down the final corner in the room, where it was already patchy and peeling at the top and bottom. Another was scrubbing fiercely at the old marble desk, fascination sparkling in their eyes at how clear and shiny the surface was underneath the thin layer of dust and grime. They were too engrossed in their task to acknowledge the arrivals, but the wallpaper octoling gave them a small shy wave.

Marina led the group to a room labelled ‘cinema’, which must have taken up a third of the ground floor and was full of sofas. Cap’n Cuttlefish and Callie were sat on one of them having a conversation; a few octolings were lounging around in the room as well, including Anten who was staring at a tatty-looking magazine, but it was hard to tell how many of them could actually understand what the squids were talking about.

“Is Agent 2 coming today?” the captain asked.

“Nah, she’s… busy. With work.” Callie’s excuse didn’t sound super convincing, but it was enough for the captain. Eight remembered how Marie had looked before she left last night and wondered if she was okay.

“That’s too bad. I don’t get to see my darlings often nowadays!” Cuttlefish affectionately patted her arm.

“ _Grandpa_ ,” Callie groaned, slightly embarrassed.

Nearby, the small one-eyed octoling from yesterday, Miles, was piecing together a bunch of stuff on the ground, which took Eight a moment to realise was some kind of projector he must have taken apart. “It… show images, correct?” he checked, looking expectantly up at Callie.

“Mmhmm!” Callie nodded. “Don’t worry if you can’t make it work; it looks _ancient_.”

“I took a quick look at it yesterday,” Marina spoke up, and Callie glanced over at the sound of her voice and waved to the arrivals. “I think it’s fixable, but it might need some new parts.”

Four dropped onto one of the sofas, wincing a little. “Ouch. Old springs.”

“Some of them aren’t too bad.” Callie patted the space on the cushion at her side as a motion for Jake to sit next to her, and he did so a little cautiously, aware of the captain’s scrupulous gaze. “I think a few of them might need replacing, though.”

“I’ll add it to the list,” Marina said with a wry smile.

Three took a seat nearby, still looking a little tired after walking all the way here. Callie watched her and, hesitantly, gave a wave. “Hey Fa— uh… Agent 3.” She quickly corrected herself.

“Hey.” Three didn’t seem nearly as hostile towards her as she had yesterday, to the point where Callie actually looked surprised. “You can prob’ just call me Faye here. I don’t need to cover my identity.”

“Alrighty then!” Callie seemed pleased. “You feeling better?”

“I guess.”

“ **Do you know where Margin is right now**?” Marina asked, her tongue turning to octarian as she looked over at Anten.

The tired-looking octoling had been twisting the magazine at different angles to try and work out what it said, but gave up and placed it on a coffee table when they were addressed. “ **Sulking, probably. We locked her room last night in case she decided to run off and try anything** _._ ”

Marina winced. “ **Isn’t that a bit much? We’re trying to make everyone feel at home here** _._ ”

Anten shrugged. “ **She _did_ try to kill someone yesterday. We don’t exactly feel super safe around her either. I’ll go find her, if it makes you happy** _._ ”

Marina shot a worried glance at Three, who was looking in their direction but unable to understand the octarian words – although, she’d undoubtedly heard Margin’s name. She didn’t look too worried, and Anten left before Marina could say another word.

“Oh, good. The angry one,” Three muttered.

Still listening out for when Margin might show up, Eight turned her attention to Miles, who had almost the whole base of the projector put back together minus a few odds and ends scattered on the carpet. He noticed her staring and blinked up at her curiously. “ **Who are you? I’ve never seen you before yesterday.”**

Yet again, Eight found herself confused as to what life she’d even lived in the domes, especially if the octolings there didn’t seem to think she’d existed. “My name is Eight.”

“ **Do you not speak octarian**?” Miles looked confused. “ **Do you understand what I am saying? I can’t speak inkling very clearly** _.”_

“I understand you.” Eight gave a small nod, hoping he could understand _her_ words. “I don’t speak good.” She was getting the hang of the inkling language by now – or _one_ of them, because apparently there were quite a few different ones, but one was good enough for living in Inkopolis – and while she could understand octarian just fine, any attempt to speak it felt like there was something _blocking_ her, like she’d suddenly forgotten how to say all the words. It was a weird experience, and she didn’t like it, but octarian hadn’t been useful at all to her on the surface. Until now, at least.

“ **You can understand it but not speak it? That’s strange** ,” Miles said a little bluntly, but still perfectly summing up Eight’s feelings about it too. He pushed the top of the projector’s case back on, giving it a gentle pat when he was done, and held up the plug towards Eight.

Oh. He wanted her to plug it in somewhere. She looked around, eventually spotting the sockets underneath the clear space of pale wall where images would be shown, and pushed the plug into it.

Miles turned the projector towards the wall and pressed a switch. Immediately the light on the front flickered on, painting Eight in blue no-signal light and casting a shadow on the wall behind her.

“Wow,” Marina exclaimed, her hair curling up a little as she smiled. “ **Impressive! Have you ever repaired a projector before?”**

Miles flicked the switch off, and Eight blinked the light she hadn’t been expecting out of her eyes. “ **No** ,” he said quietly, blushing a little at the praise as if he wasn’t used to it. “ **I just knew what it was supposed to do.”**

He suddenly looked around with a worried expression, and Eight noticed for the first time a sound that was growing louder; a fierce engine noise. She knew exactly what it was, but it must have been new to the other octolings. The rest of them in the room looked nervous too.

“ **Nothing to worry about** ,” Marina said hurriedly, waving her arms to try and reassure them. She let out a slightly exasperated sigh as she turned to head out the door. “Why, Pearlie?”

Eight made her way to the window, which was one of the ones that had been boarded up, but a few of the planks had been removed to let light in. The sound grew to its loudest as the large helicopter hovered above the hotel gardens, and Pearl lowered to the ground on one of the pulleys off the side, landing on the path with a flourish. So, that was her ‘stylish’ travel. It was definitely _loud_.

“ **What is _that_**?” Miles, curiosity overpowering his fear, joined her by the window, and stared up at the flying machine in amazement. “ **It’s like an octozeppelin, but _fancy_**.”

“Pearl’s helicopter,” Eight responded. “It’s noisy.”

As Marina went to greet her, Pearl waved away whatever she was saying that Eight couldn’t hear from inside, reached up to give her girlfriend a quick kiss on the cheek, and hurried to the building, shooting a quick thumbs-up at the pilot to tell him to leave. Marina watched her go and slapped a hand to her own forehead before following.

“ _Hello_ , octolings!” Pearl burst through the door a moment later. “And squids. Pretty sweet place, huh? Everyone say thank you to Pearl!”

“As if _we_ couldn’t afford this place,” Callie muttered quietly.

“Yeah, but would you still have money afterwards?” Jake added evenly.

Callie only pouted in response.

“Pearlie, was the helicopter really necessary?” Marina fretted when she finally caught up. “The noise spooked the octolings, and we don’t want to attract attention to this place.”

Pearl gave her an innocent look; she probably genuinely hadn’t thought about this. “Hmm. Perhaps you’re right. Okay, next time I’ll use a _smaller_ helicopter.”

Marina rolled her eyes and gave a small laugh, knowing this was just what Pearl was like. “Okay. I think a car would be better.”

“Where is she!? _WHERE’S AGENT 3_!?”

The booming voice made Eight jump, and immediately caught the attention of everyone in the room – and in the entire building, no doubt. It was accompanied by a loud _thump_ as Margin skipped an entire set of stairs by jumping over the banister. She must have known where everyone was likely to have gathered, and barged through the heavy doors of the cinema room a second later.

She still had the soldier armour on, and from the look of how crumpled the shirt underneath was, she probably hadn’t changed out of it since yesterday, as if she expected to be attacked during the night.

“ _You_!” Margin’s furious gaze landed on Three, who lazily folded her arms over the back of the sofa to face her. Eight instinctively took a step closer to her in case Margin decided to attack again, and Marina looked ready to pounce on the young octoling if necessary.

“Me,” Three muttered with a bored expression. Eight couldn’t tell how genuine it was. “I take it trying to kill someone isn’t your way of making friends.”

Margin glowered at her, but had enough sense to reign in her anger, looking around the room and realising she was very much outnumbered if she tried to start another fight with the agent. “You were lucky your friends were around to save you. What a coward you must be if you can’t even face me alone.”

“We’re not here to fight,” Marina reminded her, a definite stern tone in her words. “The inklings are our friends now.”

“I’m not going to be friends with inklings just because a deserter tells me to,” Margin scoffed. “And I definitely don’t want to be friends with _Agent 3_.”

“I’m flattered that you feel so strongly, really,” Three said sarcastically, “but I really don’t know what I did that, and I quote, ‘ruined your life’, or whatever you said yesterday. If anything I think Octavio did that already.”

“Octavio _saved_ my life!” Margin snarled. “You almost _killed_ me!”

Three looked very confused. “I just hit you to get the shades off your face ‘cus I thought Octavio was controlling you with them. That definitely wouldn’t have killed you.”

“I’m not talking about yesterday! I’m talking about three years ago. When you stabbed me and left me to _die_!”

“I did _what_!?” Three sat up so sharply it almost knocked the hat off her head.

“You did _what_!?” Pearl burst out.

“Agent 3 was one of my best agents,” Cuttlefish said thoughtfully. “But she isn’t heartless and never has been. She wouldn’t do something like that.”

Margin glared at him. “Maybe Agent 3 isn’t all you think she is.” She grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it up just above her stomach.

On her left side was a short line where the skin was paler and slightly indented. Eight had seen the scar on Pearl’s shoulder, and it looked almost identical; that was definitely a stab wound. Except, unlike Pearl, the place where Margin had been hit would have been extremely life-threatening, stabbing into at least one of her major organs and terrifyingly close to one of her hearts.

Everyone in the room was silenced for a long moment, until Three finally spoke again. “I _did_ _not_ do that. I have no memory of this at all.”

“Well, I’m so glad _you_ were able to forget,” Margin huffed, pushing her shirt back down and tucking it back under the upper belt on her armour. “Because _I_ sure didn’t.”

“I’m sure Agent 3 wouldn’t have knowingly tried to kill you,” Marina insisted, though she looked unsure.

Eight didn’t know what to think. Three had definitely fought the octarians before; Eight herself had vague memories of fighting her many years ago, which often came back to haunt her in her nightmares, and Three definitely hadn’t held back.

“Why would I even have a _knife_?” Three was clearly trying to sound confident, but even she looked unsure and horrified.

Just because she couldn’t remember it, did that mean it really didn’t happen? Eight had lost her memory when she fell into the metro, and down there Three had been taken over by the AI Tartar. If there was the possibility that could have wiped out some of her memories as well…

“They do have some real painfully sharp objects over in octo land,” Pearl added. “Learnt that one the hard way.” Marina flinched a little.

“It must have just been self-defence,” Callie assured. “You wouldn’t purposefully hurt someone that bad. Right?”

It took Three a moment to realise that Callie was addressing her. “Wha—no, of course not!”

_Of course not. She wouldn’t._

Still, Eight couldn’t help but feel some of her old fear for Agent 3 creeping back in. Which she felt guilty about, because Three was supposed to be her very best friend.

Margin let out an angry huff as she turned to leave. “Fine then. Believe what you want. Of course the inklings will stick up for their own kind.” She vanished beyond the doorframe before adding, in a shout, “ _Miles_!”

The young octoling jumped. “ **U-uh, right, okay**.” He hurried after her, hopping the wire of the projector on his way.

Marina, catching on to how anxious he looked, held out an arm to gently stop him. “ **You don’t have to follow her orders**.”

“ **N-no, it’s okay** ,” Miles ducked under her arm, but she didn’t try to stop him again, even though his hair was twitching nervously. “ **She’s my friend**.”

Eight watched him disappear out of sight as he raced to catch up with the angry octoling. She could not imagine, for even one second, how someone could possibly be _friends_ with Margin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> octopus....... angry
> 
> I don't actually have much to say half the time I just like the extra page break of "see the end of the chapter for notes" so you all get whatever sillie comment pops into my head when I post a chapter :] I hope you're all having a good day


	5. Fresh Start

It wasn’t fair. Nothing was _ever_ fair.

The inklings had nearly destroyed them. They’d been forced to live in domes under the ground. Now she was expected to believe they had the octolings’ best interests at heart, by forcing them all to leave their homes and live in the place _they_ decided.

It was just proven to her that inklings would never change. Margin could still remember the agony when Agent 3 drove a knife into her stomach, how she’d glared and watched her bleed her life out until backup arrived and the squid was forced to leave lest she meet the same fate. And now the little group of ‘saviours’ all believed Agent 3 was innocent. Either she was a good actor, or whatever head injury gave her the scar on her face had wiped out all memory of the attack.

Maybe she’d done it too many times to even care to remember how she hurt one individual.

Now everyone else from the army was turning to the inklings’ side, too. They were too impatient to wait for Octavio to return, and he _would_ , she knew he would. The inklings had a few octolings on their side, and that was enough for the rest to be fooled by them. Not Margin. The inklings would never make a fool of her.

“ **Where are we going**?” Miles asked, as Margin stomped her way back up the second flight of stairs.

“ **My room.** ” She hated to call it that. It wasn’t as if she’d even chosen it; she’d been _assigned_ one of the rooms on the top floor, because it was too dangerous to jump out the window to escape when they trapped her inside. “ **Anten probably won’t lock me in if you’re there too.** ”

“ **Oh**.” Miles hesitated briefly when they reached the top, running a hand over the fancy fish-shaped banister. “ **What if they do**?”

“ **Then at least we’ll be in it together. You could probably use your genius to unlock the door from the inside** _._ ”

Fortunately, Anten was nowhere to be seen when she reached the door; they probably thought it was safe to let her roam free while the band of misfits was here. Room 316, her assigned prison cell, had ugly cream walls like the rest of the building, a wooden table and bed, a mostly-open wardrobe, and a partially-boarded view of some trees on the mountain.

Perhaps the surface did look nicer than the greys of their base, but Margin wasn’t weak. She wasn’t a pushover. She wasn’t going to sit and roll over for the inklings just because they let her into the world that should’ve been hers in the first place.

“ **Don’t let the inklings get into your head**.” Margin climbed onto the bed, sitting with her back against the windowed wall. She didn’t want the stupid view.

“ **I was just fixing the projector**.” Miles twiddled his thumbs as he spoke, as if he wanted to go back to taking things apart and re-assembling them. That did seem to be one of his favourite pastimes. Margin couldn’t leave anything within his reach if she wanted it to remain in one piece, but at least it’d be in the exact same condition or better afterwards.

“ **Good**.” She continued her earlier activity of scanning every nook and cranny of her room, just in case there was some kind of hidden clue that might be of use later. So far she’d worked out that the inklings preferred comfort to efficiency, and that was easy enough to see just from taking one step into the bathroom. Margin had learnt today that bathtubs weren’t actually a myth. “ **Keep your wits about you. We still don’t know what they want from us**.”

Miles, not afflicted by the same stubbornness that Margin bore, stared out the window to what lay beyond. “ **I think they just want us to live up here like them. There doesn’t have to be any hidden motive** _._ ”

“ **Yes there _does_**!” Margin snapped, her gaze shooting back to him in a second. Miles was too naïve. He didn’t understand. “ **They’re manipulative and selfish; all they care about is themselves and clothes and their stupid music** _.”_ She huffed and folded her arms. _“_ **They’re up to something. We can’t trust them. We just have to wait for Octavio to return, and then everything will go back to normal.** _”_

For a long moment, Miles was silent. “ **Do you want things to go back to how they were**?”

“ **Don’t _you_**?” She gave him a sharp suspicious glare.

Miles hesitated.

“ **You can’t seriously want to live up here with the _inklings_** _!?”_ Margin spat the last word like it left a bad taste in her mouth, and to be quite honest, it did. _“_ **I didn’t convince Octavio not to kick you out just so you could betray us all like this**!”

 _“_ **No! N-no, no, of course not.** _”_ Miles shook his head, sending his hair in front of his one good eye for a brief moment until he got control of it again. “ **The dome was fine. You’re right. Ev—everything you said was right.** _”_

“ **Right. Make sure you keep feeling that way**.” She wasn’t going to let Miles get pushed around by the inklings; not under her watch.

She’d first met Miles shortly after her fateful encounter with Agent 3. He’d been in the medical ward at the same time as she had, still recovering from when one of the walkways in the training area had collapsed, and he was too inexperienced with his octoling form at the age of eleven to transform and prevent the serious facial injury he’d received. He had quickly become a good friend to her, but his missing eye made him sub-par at best for using weaponry, and he’d swiftly been banned from soldier training, doomed to be sent to the outskirts of the city for the rest of his life. Margin, not wanting to lose her new (and only) friend, had picked up on how interested Miles seemed in technology, even more so than most octolings, and managed to convince Octavio that he would be useful to them as a scientist. She hadn’t seen him as much since, and their whole base of operations had a wrench thrown in it a few months later – because of _Agent 3_ – but his skills seemed to increase exponentially.

Not only did Margin need him as a friend, but Miles would be useful when Octavio _did_ return and they could finally sort all this mess out.

Octavio _would_ come back. She knew he would. Margin would just have to work her hardest in the meantime, and then when he returned, he’d praise her for how well she’d done in the hands of the enemy and officially make her his second in command. She would make sure she was more than deserving of it.

* * *

After the shitshow that occurred, Faye decided it was in her best interest to get the hell out of that place as soon as possible and never go back. All she wanted to do was check out the place, see what kind of conditions an old ex-abandoned hotel could provide, and just feel like she was a _part_ of the New Squidbeak Splatoon again.

For her efforts, she got… accused of attempted murder. That was a wonderful summary of just how her life seemed to be going as of late.

The thing bothering her most was that she genuinely had no idea if it was true or not. Trying to think back to any specific mission from almost three years ago felt impossible. Perhaps something had taken her near the base. Maybe that young octoling had attacked and disarmed her and she’d used whatever was nearby to defend herself.

Perhaps Margin had been too young to be an official soldier at the time and hadn’t been connected to the respawn.

Faye at least hoped she would have the common sense, if armed with a knife, to not stab someone directly where all their organs were.

She couldn’t have been the one who did that, right?

_This was your fault._

_This wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for you._

_You ruined his life and mine._

_Stop!_ Faye groaned, smacking a hand to the side of her face and immediately regretting it, wincing as that was what made her head start its regularly scheduled pain. _Ugh._ At least it was just the pain, for now. She could handle that. If it made her dizzy or sick, that might be a problem when she still had to walk back to the valley, but…

“You okay?”

That… was not helping either. “I’m _fine_.” Faye resisted the urge to say more than a quiet grumble. She really, really wished that Callie had not insisted on walking with her. Callie was a _talker_. Faye did not want to talk.

‘But it’s faster to walk to the valley and then take the pipe into town!’ she’d insisted. Either she’d gotten lost on the way up here, or she had some kind of ulterior motive. Even if that ulterior motive was just making sure Faye didn’t collapse on the mountain.

“You don’t look fine.” Thank you, Callie, for that great observation.

“Alright! I lied for social convenience.” Faye rolled her eyes, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jeans and hoping she didn’t trip on anything on the uneven mountain path. “I have a headache. That’s all.”

Callie was silent for a few moments, and even though she wasn’t looking at her, Faye could feel her gaze boring into her. “Something’s bothering you.”

Faye couldn’t hold back the blank glare for that comment. “Wow. You are a _genius_. It’s almost like you were there!”

“Well—okay, you got me on that one,” Callie shrugged, smiling in a way that might have been forced. Maybe her whole personality was a façade, it was difficult to tell. Faye didn’t understand how someone could have so much _energy_ all the time. “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t believe you’d do something like that.”

“Sure. Call me back when you gain the power to change past events and maybe that’ll mean something.”

“ _Why_ are you being like this?”

The question caught Faye off guard, and her gaze snapped back so fast she almost caught her shoe on a root. That smile, maybe a façade after all, was completely gone now, replaced with a frown and a searching look as Callie closely watched her reaction.

It was like she was testing her. Faye didn’t like that.

“I’m always like this,” Faye muttered in response after some careful consideration, shaking her head and stepping over the protrusion in the path to continue on her way. Mount Nantai was so big. Her decision to stay away in future felt more and more like a good one.

“Nu-uh. I _knew_ you. We used to be friends!” Callie hurried to catch her despite her pace being no more than a somewhat hasty walk. “Now you’re just—you’re trying to push me away.”

“If I am, it’s clearly not working.”

“Okay, fine. Act like you don’t care.” Callie let out an indignant huff, so she must have struck a nerve. “And I guess you don’t, or you wouldn’t be doing this.” There was hurt in her voice, and Faye did feel a little bad about that. Callie was right; they had been friends, at one point, but they’d barely spoken since. “Just stop taking advantage of the fact that Marie cares about you.”

Oh. So that was what this was about. Faye felt her hands instinctively curling into fists, but she fought the urge to snap. “I’m _not_. I apologised to her.”

“Did you mean it?”

“Of course I did!” Faye’s ears twitched. _Stop it. Stop trying to piss me off._

Callie watched her for a long moment, brow furrowed and arms folded, as if she was trying to decide whether to believe her. Faye probably didn’t look entirely convincing to her, especially given the fact that her arms were tense and she really really wanted to splinter one of the nearby trees with her bare hands. Would that hurt? Yes. Did she care? Not really.

She wanted to be left alone.

“Okay. Good.” Callie gave a small nod. “But I know Marie better than anyone, and I know she doesn’t make friends easily. You and Rollo are the only people I’ve seen her be close to in, like, our entire lives.”

“Sure. I bet Four hasn’t been given a whole psychoanalysis over an argument.”

“Because he doesn’t act like you’re doing now!” Callie threw her hands up in exasperation. “All I did was check if you were okay, and you just—it’s like you _turned_ on me. What happened to you? You never used to be like this.”

“People _change_!” Her patience used up, Faye couldn’t prevent the slight raise in volume of her voice. A fresh wave of pain burned through her head, causing her to wince and press a hand to the side of her face. There was no getting away with just a mild headache today, it seemed! Callie’s expression melted into one of concern, and she reached a hand out to her, but Faye shrugged her off and marched on ahead despite her vision rippling. “If they change into awful shitbags then so fucking be it.”

“Faye.”

She was dimly aware of Callie’s presence, but a hand grabbing her upper arm seemed to briefly flip her world, and for a few seconds Faye could swear she smelled alcohol. It was gone instantly after that, but the awful feeling it left behind wasn’t. Faye tried to escape, but Callie was a lot stronger than she looked.

“Don’t. Don’t be like this.” Callie, as blurry and spinning as she currently seemed to be, placed a hand on her other shoulder and gave her a sympathetic look. That was exactly what Faye _hated_ , what usually made her _angry_ , but it felt like all her energy to fight had been suddenly drained. “I’m sorry for getting you worked up, but… if you’re doing this to hurt yourself, it’s not just going to be you that gets hurt.”

Faye couldn’t reply to that. She couldn’t even tell if it was because Callie was _right_ , or if her voice had decided to lock itself up again. All she could do was stare for a long moment, and she had the feeling she probably looked like she was about to pass out, with one hand still firmly pressed to the side of her head. Eventually, she just about managed to speak in a small voice. “Can you let go?”

“Uh—I can, but you might fall. I’m pretty sure I’m holding you up right now.”

Hmm. That wasn’t a great thing to hear, especially when Faye was barely aware of it. “Then just drop me or something, I don’t care.”

Her vision was too far gone for her to be able to see Callie anymore, but she could at least hear her voice, even if it sounded distant. “C’mon, let’s just… sit you against a tree or something.”

Faye felt more like the world was moving around her than that she was being moved, but soon there was ground, and something that was probably a tree trunk behind her if Callie’s words were to be trusted. She hated this. She hated that people felt the need to _help_ her.

The contact was gone after that, and while Faye kind of wished Callie would leave her here, she could still sense that she was nearby. Perhaps she thought Faye would get eaten by mountain ants or something if she just left her here half-conscious. It wasn’t like this place was a whole lot different than the cabin at the valley anyway. At least Callie had stopped trying to make her do conversation now, though. Faye appreciated that.

Her senses faded back in slowly even though the pounding in her head didn’t leave. There was no smell here other than the fresh mountain air, and the vague hint of whatever perfume or deodorant Callie used, so what she’d caught before was definitely just in her head. Wonderful. It was so nice to know she was going to have to deal with actual trauma whenever someone grabbed her arm. That was absolutely definitely what she wanted in life.

It had been over a year since she’d last seen the source of it, too. Geez. Stupid brain. It couldn’t go without hurting for one day and it was going to do this to her too?

Faye peeled the hand from her face at last, getting the weird sensation of having the feeling in her hand but not her scarred cheek. Her hat had been knocked to an extreme angle and she shoved it back into its correct place. She shifted her legs into a more comfortable position than the one she’d half-collapsed in and sighed. “… I’m sorry. For being so harsh to you.”

“Apology accepted.” Callie reached out to pat her shoulder but hesitated before making contact, and drew her hand back. She’d caught on that Faye didn’t want to be touched. _Thank you._ Instead, she plucked a dead leaf from a nearby bush, crumbling it in her hands. “I know we might not really be close friends anymore, but… if something’s bothering you, I’m better at listening than most people think.” She gave a friendly smile.

Meeting her gaze, Faye managed a small smile in return, which she hoped didn’t come out as a grimace. “Thanks.” All the things that bothered her seemed to fall into two categories, though; extremely petty, and childhood trauma. She didn’t fancy talking about either of these things to Callie. “I’ll be alright.”

“Well, the offer’s always there.” Callie sprinkled her crunched-up leaf confetti onto the path and dusted off her hands before launching herself back to her feet. _So much energy._ “I don’t wanna leave you out here when you almost passed out. Can you use your squid form? You’re probably lighter than Eight; I can carry you back to the valley.”

Faye couldn’t help but scoff at her suggestion. “ _Carry_ me? No thanks. I’d rather collapse on the side of the mountain.”

“Aw, come on! That way you don’t have to walk, and it’s not like anyone’s gonna see you out here.”

She had a point. Faye hesitated for a moment longer, before eventually giving in and deciding her pride was worth sacrificing for not having to drag herself all the way back home. She sighed and rolled her eyes, using what little energy she could muster to change her ink to more of an orange hue, to make her even less recognisable in squid form. “Fine. But don’t you dare tell anyone – not even Marie. _Especially_ not Marie.”

* * *

When Anten showed up at the door of her room again, Margin met them with a challenging glare, daring them to even _think_ about locking her inside again, especially when Miles was in here too. She didn’t personally know many of the octolings, and the majority of the ones she did know were soldiers, but despite not really knowing or caring who Anten was before yesterday, she knew immediately that she hated them, and not just because they’d locked her in this room.

The way the tentacles on the left side of their head were sliced off and then healed over with the faded outside colour meant they’d been sealed to stop them from growing back, and that was a clear sign of some form of treason. Whatever they’d done hadn’t warranted them being banished from the city, but it was enough that Octavio had called for them to have the mark of an octoling who was not to be used for creating more octolings. Anyone willing to betray Octavio was not trustworthy, in Margin’s book.

“ **Marina is giving some kind of seminar about living on the surface** ,” Anten informed them. “ **You guys should come down and see**.”

Ah. Someone _else_ who had betrayed Octavio, but escaped the consequences along with many others, including whoever this ‘Eight’ was, upon deserting. “ **And hang out with the inklings? No thanks** _.”_ Margin turned away from them pointedly. She had no interest in talking to traitors, either.

Although, given how much everyone seemed to have settled into this place already, perhaps she was looking at more traitors than she’d first thought.

“ **You’re in luck. Most of the inklings are gone, and Marina specifically requested your presence there, Margin**.” They made a hand motion for the two of them to follow before vanishing from view of the doorway, leaving Margin with her freedom for now. Miles gave her an uncertain look, waiting for her permission.

“ **Is that supposed to make me _want_ to go**?” Margin scoffed, though she had to admit she was curious. There were probably some kind of rules up here that the inklings lived by, and if she didn’t want more unwarranted punishment, she was going to have to adhere to them and play by their rules.

Until she decided otherwise, of course. She was going to have to do _something_ to save all the octolings, even if they didn’t think they needed saving. The inklings had put a spell over them all so easily.

The newly-dubbed common room was crowded when they arrived, with almost every octoling from the building present. Most of the seats were taken already, so Margin opted to stand instead of squeezing into whatever empty space she could find.

Marina was there, as promised, as well as Eight, and the only inklings that remained were the really short one who never seemed to leave her alone, Agent 4 who Margin knew of from their failed mission last year, and the little blue one she didn’t know the name of, just that he was a useful pawn for getting to Agent 4. She didn’t know if she could use this information for anything yet, but it was definitely something to keep in mind.

No Agent 3 now. Good, because Margin didn’t want to have to look at her. Absent-mindedly, she wondered if Agent 3 also had an equivalent of the small blue inkling.

The talk Marina gave was not nearly as interesting as Margin had hoped. It was mostly just basic knowledge, some of which she knew already.

“ **Don’t go too close to deep water**.” Well, duh. It wasn’t like they didn’t have water in the domes.

“ **Try not to create disturbances or hurt anyone**.” That had also been one of their rules, though Margin could swear Marina looked at her when saying that last part.

“ **Weapons are not allowed in public**.” Now, that was a new one. How were you supposed to defend yourself if someone attacked you? This was definitely a ploy to have them unarmed at all times. “ **There is a popular ink-based sport inklings and octolings take part in, though, and I can get some guidebooks up here if anyone’s interested. It’s also a decent way to earn money**.”

“ **You’re free to explore the nearby area, but I think maybe we should wait a few days for everyone to learn the basic laws and language of Inkopolis** ,” Marina suggested, after promising to get some helpful revision material for them all. “ **And then, I think everyone should travel in small groups, and accompanied by someone from Squidbeak in case anyone needs assistance**.”

They weren’t even allowed to go anywhere without the inklings. Typical. Were they really supposed to believe they weren’t being kept as prisoners here?

Marina glanced at the watch on her wrist. “ **I have to go now, but I’ll bring some guidebooks with me tomorrow!** ” She said something quietly to her friends, her words drowned out by the anxious murmuring of the octolings in the room who had remained silent throughout her talk, and as the little group headed out, Marina halted in front of where Margin stood, near the door. “Margin, can I talk to you for a moment?” she asked, switching back to her inkling tongue around someone who could understand it.

“The great Marina, asking permission to speak to a lowlife like _me_?” Margin overdramatically placed a hand on her chest. “I can’t believe I’ve finally reached the respect level of inklings.”

Marina gave her a disapproving look. “That’s not how things work around here. Come on; let’s talk in the hall, it’s less crowded.”

 _She’s leading me out to where I’ll be alone._ Margin narrowed her eyes. _If she wants a fight, I’m not going to go down easy._ There was also an entire room full of trained soldiers behind them, if Marina did try to do anything.

Most of the inklings were out of easy ambush distance when they left the room, with only the short one remaining nearby and Eight at the entrance to the reception room. The white-haired inkling gave Margin a brief untrusting look before she looked back up to Marina. “You gonna be alright with her?”

“I’m sure I’ll manage.” Marina waved her off. “Could you get us a car? I can’t fit both you and Eight in the basket, and we need to be back in time for that recording session.”

“Y’know, a chopper would be _faster_ —”

“A _car_ , Pearlie. Four wheels. Vroom vroom. Not a great flying beast that’ll scare the ink out of everyone here.”

“Okay, _fine_.” Pearl rolled her eyes and turned to follow the others outside. “I really gotta get Sheldon to work on puttin’ rocket wheels on a car next.”

Margin watched her go, making sure Pearl left the building before finally turning her full attention to Marina. “What do you want from me?”

“I just wanted to check how you were settling in. I’m sorry Anten locked you in your room.”

“No you’re not.” Margin gave her a scathing look. “You’d love to have me out of the way so you can do whatever you want with the octolings here.”

“I really don’t know what kind of ulterior motive you think I have, but I promise you all I’m trying to do is give everyone here the freedom to live on the surface.” Marina made a lot of promises. There were probably one or two she didn’t keep. “We brought you up here with us because I didn’t think it was a good idea to leave you behind on your own, but you’re certainly free to return if you’re not happy up here.”

“I’m not abandoning everyone here and running away.” Margin stood as tall as she could – nowhere near as tall as Marina, and she _hated_ that, because it meant it did not in any way work as an intimidation tactic. “If I leave, everyone here is coming with me.”

“That’s up for them to decide, not me. I think you should definitely give the surface a chance, though. I know I’m definitely a lot happier living here.”

“Well, I’m sorry if I don’t find myself relating to a _traitor_ ,” Margin huffed, folding her arms. “But fine. I already know how to speak inkling; that exempts me from your few-day rule or whatever, right?”

“Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Marina gave a half-hearted smile, and, to Margin’s irritation, did not react at all to being called a traitor. Did she not _care_ that she’d betrayed Octavio? “I… was going to suggest that you stay away from the city for now. Just until we can be sure you won’t hurt anyone.”

“ _What_!?” Wasn’t Marina supposed to be trying to convince her that everyone was _friends_ up here, and equals, or whatever garbage she liked to spout? “What happened to all that stuff about _freedom_ from ten seconds ago?”

“I want you to have freedom, but I don’t want you to end up in jail,” Marina waved her hands dismissively. “Inkopolis has laws in place to keep everyone safe, so I need you to make sure you’ll stick to them – I need to be sure we can trust you.”

Hah! Like that was ever going to happen. Marina and all her ‘friends’ had already made it perfectly clear they didn’t trust Margin. “Sure. Whatever. I’ll stick to your rules, if that’s what you demand of me.”

“They’re everyone’s rules, not mine. I’m just trying to make sure you stay out of trouble. You’re welcome to travel around the mountain area if you want.”

Margin couldn’t help but let out a laugh at that. There was a guise of freedom here, but she saw right through it. “I know _exactly_ what you’re trying to do.” Not giving Marina a second glance, she marched back to the stairs, taking them two at a time. “I’m not a fool. If you want a prisoner, that’s what you’ll get. I’m not going to let you trick me like everyone else!”

* * *

After thanking Sheldon and clearing out before the shop opened, Marie waited for a short while with her cousin for the taxi Callie planned on getting – to the base of Mount Nantai, not the place itself, so hopefully Callie knew where she was going and the taxi driver would just think she was a very enthusiastic early-morning hiker – and then headed home. Her lack of sleep caught up with her immediately, and the first thing she did when she reached the apartment was collapse on her bed and pass out for most of the day.

She woke many hours later with a slight headache, struggling at first to recall why she was in bed in her clothes at 4pm, but managed to drag herself to the kitchen anyway. Thanking herself for having the foresight to plan time off work for this whole octoling mission thing – it was almost like she’d _known_ something was going to throw her off for a few days, which, in fairness, did often seem to happen with anything involving the octarians – she made the strongest coffee she could stomach and booted up her laptop to check her emails. Work still existed even if she had a few days off. Callie had criticised her workaholic tendencies more times than Marie cared to count.

Most of the new stuff was garbage from sites she’d bought things from one time and no amount of unsubscribing from their emails would stop them from appearing, but there _was_ one from her manager. She took one glance at it, decided her eyes were too unfocused to read the whole thing right now, and was about to mark it as unread for later until she realised Callie was in the recipients list too. That was unusual, given their fairly split careers now, and it was enough to intrigue her into reading.

Hmm. Interesting. Definitely something she’d have to talk to Callie about when she returned.

With not much else to do, and realising she hadn’t eaten all day, Marie decided to distract herself from worrying about the wide assortment of things that could potentially happen while Callie was up in a place surrounded by octoling ex-soldiers, and instead make some food. She quickly settled on mac and cheese, her go-to whenever she wanted something easy to make, and got as far as the water boiling before the front door opened.

“Hey Cal,” she called, pausing in her pasta-pouring to try and weigh up how much was left in the packet and how much would fit in the pan, as well as how thin she’d have to spread the sauce. “I’m doing mac and cheese, you want any?”

“You’re doing it now?” Callie peered into the kitchen as if she had to see for herself. “Isn’t it kinda early for dinner?”

“Ahah—yes. Dinner. That’s totally what this is.” Marie shook her head. “I’ll take that as a no then.”

“No, no, wait! I do!” Callie waved her hands for a moment, as if that was supposed to affect something. She always said that Marie made really good mac and cheese. Marie just thought everyone else made really bad mac and cheese. Callie hesitated for a moment, her expression turning to a frown. “… You’re making lunch at half four, aren’t you.”

“In my defence, I was asleep until half an hour ago.”

“You’re gonna ruin your sleep cycle.”

“I am painfully aware of that, thank you.” Marie rolled her eyes. “Have you got anything interesting to say, or are you just here to criticise my poor life choices?”

“Well, _someone_ has to.” Callie walked up and nudged her arm – something Marie usually wasn’t too bothered by, but it almost caused her to spill pasta on the hob, which would’ve been inconvenient. “Anyway! The place seemed nice, the octolings are happy, Gramps is fine, and I talked to Faye on the way back.”

One piece of macaroni escaped the pan that time and Callie hadn’t even made contact with her. “Oh no. Why do I hate the sound of that last part?”

“Because you _always_ assume the worst.” Callie pouted. “She was kinda mean to me at first, but she apologised. I think you’re right, though. She’s definitely upset about something, and I’d guess it’s… whatever made her ill like this. She almost collapsed again.”

“Oh.” Hearing that made Marie want to impulsively message Faye and check whether she was alright, but she had the feeling doing that would just upset her more. Perhaps it was less about sharing their concerns that had set her off yesterday, and just the fact that people were worrying about her in the first place. Marie knew she hated it when people made a fuss about her – when something was wrong, anyway. “Was she alright when you left?”

“I said a friendly ‘see you again soon maybe?’ and she responded with a ‘yeah, sure, whatever’, so that seems pretty normal to me given how she’s been lately.” Callie shrugged, and sighed as she carefully poked the stray pasta away from the hot part of the hob. “I miss when we were friends. I’m glad she actually apologised, but… she’s changed. Even _she_ said she’d changed. In a kinda… bitter, self-depreciating way.”

“She has…” Marie shooed Callie away before she could accidentally burn herself on the cooker (again) and set the timer. “I don’t think she’s changed for bad, though, she just… she’s going through some stuff, I think.”

“Well, at least she has her number one fan to support her,” Callie teased, a smile returning to her face at last, even if it was a slightly evil one.

“Oh, shush. You know I’d still support her even if I didn’t have a crush on her.” Marie lightly smacked her cousin’s arm. “You checked your emails today?”

“No, why?” Callie looked confused and slightly suspicious. “You didn’t send me one of those scary Halloween cards again, did you?”

“I would _never_! Not in January, at least. That’d probably be some kind of bad luck.” She couldn’t hold back a small smirk just at the suggestion, though; Callie always fell for those things. One time a virtual pop-up card had startled her so much that one of their neighbours had knocked on the door to check they were okay after hearing her scream. “Nah, we got an offer from our manager.”

“We _did_?” Callie’s eyes lit up with interest, and she immediately darted away to fetch her tablet from whatever careless place she’d last left it in. Somewhere obvious today, it seemed, because she was back less than a minute later, scrolling down the screen. The scrolling stopped, and she took a minute to read through the email. “They want us to perform at the _league_ _finals_!?”

“I know, right? Wild.” Marie checked the timer – only one minute had passed – and decided to sit on the couch while she waited. Effort part over. “How much d’you wanna bet they just want an excuse to make the tickets super expensive?”

“Well—true. But we should do it!” Callie gave an excited hop before flinging herself into the empty space next to Marie, almost smacking her in the face with a strand of hair. “It’s been _ages_ since we last performed together!”

“I guess…” Marie _had_ missed performing together with her cousin as the Squid Sisters; the last time they’d regrouped for a concert was shortly after they wrote their latest song, and even then, that had been a shared show with Off the Hook. While she did want to go for this just for that fact, she didn’t really like the idea that they were probably just being used for nostalgic advertisement purposes…

“Wait. Hold on.” Callie held a hand out, almost shoving it in Marie’s face, as she dropped the tablet on her lap and pulled out her phone instead. After a few minutes of very intense searching, judging by the way she stuck her tongue out a little as she scrolled around, she finally hopped in place with an “aha!” and almost flung the phone at her cousin as she showed her what was on the screen.

It took a moment for Marie’s eyes to focus after her reflex of ‘back away because something is about to hit you in the face’, but when they did, she realised Callie was showing her the SplatNet list of teams that had already signed up for the competition. It was an ever-growing list, so close to the official start of qualifiers in the next few weeks, but it was small enough so far that Callie had been able to find one in particular.

“Team Geode,” Marie read, having to think for only a second as to why that sounded familiar as her eyes passed over the list and she saw the icons for the registered team. “Oh, it’s Four’s team.”

“Yeah! They’re, like, one of the highest average team powers on the list currently.” Callie nodded enthusiastically. “You _know_ how good Rollo is. I bet his team could make it to the finals, and if they do, and we perform there, we could watch it _live_ and everything!”

“We could do that anyway,” Marie pointed out. “But I appreciate your enthusiasm. I suppose it _has_ been a while. It’d be nice to just… be the Squid Sisters again.”

“Hey. We are _always_ the Squid Sisters.” Callie gently shook Marie’s shoulders. “Come on!”

“Okay, okay!” Marie pushed her back to an arm’s length, which was only effective in giving her one shoulder back. “Alright. We can do it, but let _me_ write the email.”

“Just like the old days,” Callie said with a laugh, which Marie couldn’t help but find contagious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Margin finally shows up to be kind of an awful person!  
> Also I like writing abt Callie and Marie bickering with one another it makes me :]


	6. The Art of Socialising

The next few days passed in a blur of restless sleep and headaches, which was not unusual in the slightest. Faye felt like her biggest hobby in the past half year had become sleeping, purely from the fact that if she was unconscious she wasn’t in pain, and it’d sometimes be gone when she woke up. Sleeping didn’t take effort, either, and as far as she was concerned, that made it a very good pastime.

Something wasn’t agreeing with her now, though, and every time she woke, it was either because she’d kicked off the blanket in her sleep and was half way to freezing, or her mind had manifested her greatest fears and shoved her back into the waking world in a cold sweat.

It was the same thing on repeat – not being in control of her own actions and hurting the people she cared about. After what she’d heard from that octoling a few days ago, the nightmares seemed to have just multiplied tenfold, now that she knew she was apparently capable of such things even when she wasn’t being controlled by a murderous AI.

As she snapped awake at some unidentified time, her legs tangled in the blanket like she’d started a fight with it and her chest tight with the remains of panic, Faye’s immediate reaction was to curl one hand into a fist in frustration and punch the mattress. It was very unsatisfying, given that the mattress was full of old springs that contained too much rust to still be springy, but it used enough of her energy to calm her a little.

She waited a few minutes for the shock to wear off – it seemed to take less and less time every day as she grew accustomed to these night terrors – then rolled onto her back, running her hands over her tired face with a groan. The sun was up, and judging by its placement, it was probably almost noon, so she must have been asleep for a good twelve hours, but she didn’t feel rested.

A quiet sound made her ears twitch, and she rolled her head to the side as her phone gave a half-hearted attempt to vibrate with a message notification. One of the many instances of it falling out of her pocket had damaged that feature, but it still worked, sometimes. Faye didn’t know how to feel about the fact that her beat-up mobile was somehow relatable to her. She lazily swung an arm to the side table, almost catapulting her phone across the room in the process of picking it up to see what the message was.

The number wasn’t in her contacts. That woke her up.

[12:13] Hey Agent 3! Some of the octolings are going into town today and the smaller the groups we have are the better, is there any chance you’d like to help out?

[12:14] who is this

[12:14] Oh, sorry! This is Marina ^_^

[12:14] I forgot I’ve never messaged you outside the chatroom!

“Oh,” Faye said aloud to the whole of nobody around to hear. Well, that explained how she had her number. Helping give tours to the octolings, though? That sounded like a lot of socialising.

Still… it wasn’t like she had anything better to do. Ever since Eight moved out, everything was just _the same;_ sleep, eat, rinse and repeat, and it felt like there was nothing else Faye could really do that interested her. Perhaps that was why she’d so readily jumped at the chance to go up to the mountain a day after the mission even though she was tired; it was _something_ _to_ _do_ , and it felt like these chances didn’t come around much.

[12:15] will the angry one be there

[12:15] No, I’m trying to keep Margin away from the city until she gets used to this place. I don’t want her to get arrested if she acts out.

[12:15] It shouldn’t be too much work, just making sure they don’t get lost or into any trouble. I would say translating, but unless you know any octarian I guess there might just be a slight language barrier ^^;

[12:15] I can speak a few languages but octarian isn’t one of them unfortunately

[12:15] vague hand motions will have to suffice

[12:15] Yeah, that’s fine! Honestly a lot of them have been picking up on the Inkopolis language really fast and some of them were almost fluent already

[12:15] I’m about to head up to the hotel now and then I’ll lead a group down to the bridge into Inkopolis, do you think you can make it to the city side in just over an hour? Jake and Eight should be there too, they’re the only others who weren’t busy today.

[12:15] Thanks so much by the way!! This is a big help! >w<

Well, Faye still wasn’t sure how she felt about Jake, but at least Eight was going to be there. She was one friendly face out of very few, even if she’d inevitably moved on from when they were close friends.

[12:15] sure. no prob

* * *

Eight couldn’t decide if she was glad or horrified that Mercedes insisted on giving her a lift; on the one hand, it was quite far to the bridge from their house, and would be a lengthy walk. On the other, Eight had to pray she would leave before Marina showed up with the octolings. Now that they were venturing into the city, it probably wouldn’t be so much of a disaster if people found out about them, but Eight wasn’t quite ready to try and explain to her housemate why she personally knew Off the Hook.

Fortunately, Merce had a full schedule today. She’d questioned why Eight was meeting friends at the bridge on the edge of town, of all places, but since Jake was already there when they arrived, she seemed content that Eight was safe with him, and left.

Which also left her alone with Jake, and created an awkward silence in the air. Eight did not know Jake. She knew who he _was_ , and she’d literally been placed into his arms a few days ago, but she could not recall ever having a conversation with him, and given that she was already not great at conversations, that meant this wait would likely be accompanied by the sound of the wind and nothing more. Jake didn’t appear bothered by this; he didn’t seem to expect her to talk, just scrolled through something on his phone as they sat on this bench overlooking the water.

It was a nice view, with the large suspension bridge arching high into the blue-grey sky ahead. This little area looked like a tourist spot, with benches and picnic tables and bins and a glass railing that allowed people a closer look at the water while preventing children from falling in, but in the middle of the chilly winter there wasn’t a tourist in sight.

The silence gave plenty of space for thoughts, and Eight always seemed to have a lot of those. Thoughts about what today might entail, if she would struggle to communicate with the other octolings when some weren’t fluent in inkling, what the reason could possibly be that she couldn’t speak a language she clearly _knew_ , because she could both understand and write in it.

These thoughts were stressful, and made her anxious for the day ahead, so a new thought topic was needed. She thought back to what had been on her mind earlier, and at various points in the past few days; something she’d been thinking about a lot since meeting a specific one of the octolings, and hadn’t really had the chance to ask anyone about yet. She loved and trusted her team, but there were times when she still didn’t know what she could ask them without seeming strange, or tipping them off that she was from somewhere that might as well have been a totally different world, even if she didn’t remember much of it.

But… Jake knew about where she was from, and he was here now, so she could at least try asking him, right?

“How do pronouns work?”

“Huh?” Jake seemed to startle a little at the sound of her voice, not expecting her to talk and accustomed to the silence. He looked up from his phone at last, his gaze wide as he met hers. “Uh… you mean, like, in language, or…?”

“I mean… how do you get them?” Eight tried to extrapolate. “Does somebody give them to you?”

“… Sometimes?” Jake seemed a little confused by her words, and Eight started to expect maybe her question had been a strange one after all – or at least, she’d worded it strangely. “I guess your parents choose some for you when you’re born?”

“I don’t think I was born.” Eight said thoughtfully, which gained her an even more confused look from the inkling. “… Octoling thing. I do not know of who I was created from, but when I met the Captain and Pearl and Marina, I didn’t have any memories, and they all called me she. Would that be similar?”

“I… guess? Why, did you want to use different ones?”

“Different ones?” Eight tilted her head. “Can they be changed?”

“Sure. It’s like names, I guess. You can change them if you find one that you feel fits better.” Jake shrugged, stuffing his phone into the pocket of his hoodie along with his hands, shivering a little against the winter breeze. “I mean, you weren’t always called Agent 8, right?”

“I would not know. It would be a big coincidence if I was.” The captain had given her that name, but she assumed it was on a similar vein to how there were Agent 3 and Agent 4, whose real names were Faye and Rollo – except she had no idea what her non-agent name had been, or if she even had one. She must have _had_ one, right? Whatever it was, though, she couldn’t imagine it feeling more fitting than ‘Eight’. “Pearl started calling me Eight, and I liked how it sounded.”

“That’s cool. You’ve got that down, then.” Jake gave a slow nod. “So what were you thinking about? With pronouns, I mean.”

“… I don’t know.” Eight suddenly wished she had pockets of her own to bury her hands in, and settled for pulling her arms in close to her body instead. She liked how ‘they’ sounded; it was neutral, and she felt drawn to that somehow, but… at the same time, she didn’t want to let go of who she was now. “It sounds like a big change, even if it is one word.”

“You don’t have to decide right away,” Jake said with another shrug, “and I mean, you’re kinda right. It took me, like, a year.”

Eight gave him a surprised glance. “You were not always he?”

“No, I—you didn’t notice?” The hint of a smile tugged at his mouth, as if this was something he was glad to hear. “I mean… no. But, uh, please don’t call me anything else. Or… tell anyone.”

“Okay.” That sounded reasonable. Eight couldn’t imagine liking someone calling her ‘he’; it didn’t feel right to her. She didn’t _mind_ ‘she’, though, but could understand why people insistently calling you someone you weren’t could be upsetting.

“Of course. You’re on _this_ side of the bridge. Okay.”

Eight lifted her head and looked around at the nearby voice, her face lighting up as she recognised the squid walking towards them from the direction of the bridge. “Three!” She sprung up from the bench, a skip in her step as she raced to meet her friend, and halted a few steps in front of her with her arms outstretched.

Three regarded her with a raised eyebrow for a moment, almost hidden in the shadow of her hat; then she sighed. “Fine. You get _one_ hug.”

One was more than enough to satisfy Eight. She gladly pulled Three into an embrace, almost knocking her hat off in the process. Three pulled her hands from her pockets to awkwardly pat Eight’s back.

“I foolishly forgot to set a hug time limit,” Three muttered, her voice slightly muffled by Eight’s coat, as she wriggled free of her grip. That _did_ dislodge her hat, but she caught it before it hit the ground and placed it back on her head, tilting it back to its usual angle.

“Why are you here?” Jake asked, not moving from his spot on the bench.

His tone was confused, not accusatory, but it still made Three frown. “Wow. You don’t have to act so glad to see me.” She took a seat at the far edge, either so that there was enough space for Eight to sit down, or to be as far from him as possible.

“Not like—I just mean, like, you don’t strike me as the tour-giving type.” Jake quickly waved his hands, as if wafting away his previous statement, and Eight couldn’t help but notice how he shuffled closer to the arm of the bench, as if he were scared of Three. She was quite intimidating when you didn’t know her, Eight reasoned. _She_ would probably be scared of her too if she hadn’t lived with her for months.

“I don’t strike me as that either, but apparently there’s hardly anyone around and I guess I was a last resort.” Three shrugged, throwing one leg over the other as she settled against the arm of the bench, making the hard surface look more comfortable than it actually was. “That or Marina considers me to be in the octoling-babysitting business now.” She gave Eight a good-humoured glance.

Jake let out a forced laugh, as if he didn’t entirely get the joke. “Rollo is doing practice with his team, but he said we could meet up with them in an hour or two when they’re done, especially if any of the octolings want to try turf war.”

“Oh. I did not bring my weapon,” Eight realised, dropping down onto the middle of the bench faster than intended and causing it to shudder. Perhaps she should’ve thought of that before leaving the house; one of the biggest attractions in the city was the ink sports, after all.

“Sheldon let me store mine with him so I didn’t have to carry it around town,” Jake shrugged, and Eight wondered what kind of weapon he used. Something small, probably. He was quite small. “He’ll be giving out Splattershot Jr.s to any new players, though. Maybe he’d let you borrow one.”

“Sheldon isn’t a huge fan of letting people borrow his weapons for free,” Three pointed out. “Especially if you’re not, like, rich.”

“I am not.” She didn’t know what constituted as ‘rich’, but as far as Eight was concerned, she would definitely never feel like she was while she knew Pearl. She did have _some_ money saved up, though, and she’d been considering trying something different than the octoshot for a while… a terrifying as the metro had been at times, she enjoyed using all sorts of different weapons in the tests. “I may try something new. I can afford a weapon, I think.”

“You use a splattershot, right?” Jake leaned forward a little to look at Three. “Or… at least, I think that’s what you had before.”

“Huh?” It took Three a moment to realise he was asking her. “Oh. Nah, I ain’t a huge fan of turf war. I don’t have a turf weapon, anyhow. If I tried to take my heroshot in there I’d probably get arrested.”

“Oh. Right.”

* * *

Faye was not a fan of people trying to force conversation out of her, and it was a great relief when Jake eventually seemed to stop trying and chatted with Eight instead while they waited. The octoling didn’t make a ton of conversation either, but the two of them were enough that they weren’t waiting in total silence.

When Marina finally showed up, Faye only recognised her because of the group of, ironically, eight octolings following her. Her ink was blue today, her hair tied up and mostly hidden in the back of her coat, and her face partially covered by a thick scarf and tinted glasses, with a pair of earmuffs instead of her usual headphones. Honestly, her outfit looked like she was planning to go out into a snowstorm, but it did a good enough job of hiding her identity. Hopefully the octolings were aware of her celebrity status with the citizens of Inkopolis; the last thing they’d need in their introduction to the city was a mob of fans coming after them.

“Hello! Oh, thank you so much for agreeing to help today, guys,” Marina greeted them with a half-hidden beam on her face, which grew wider as Eight sprung up from the bench to make her the next hug recipient. Marina hugged her back with one arm and continued on as if she didn’t have someone clinging to her. “Four groups, two each?”

“I hope you’re better than the Captain at assigning travel buddies to everyone,” Faye joked half-heartedly. She caught Jake giving her a slightly offended glance and couldn’t tell if it was serious or not.

“Well, Pearlie isn’t here to pick a fight with anyone today,” Marina responded with a hopeful laugh. “She’s doing the news on her own while I’m here, though, so she’s still helping. I promise she’s a lot more loveable than she first appears.”

_I’ve met her multiple times now and I still don’t consider her ‘loveable’._ Faye didn’t say so out loud, though, knowing it would probably be a mean thing to say in front of Eight, who cared a lot about Pearl, and Marina, who was literally Pearl’s girlfriend. Maybe there was something they saw in her that Faye could not.

The tour guides waited patiently as Marina sorted the new octolings into groups and then assigned them each into teams, the speed at which she did so suggesting she’d thought about it plenty on the way here. The only ones Faye recognised were the young one with the scarred face – the one who claimed to be friends with Margin – and Anten, who seemed to be paying more attention to the city in the distance, as if they couldn’t wait to explore it. They had more liveliness to them now than when Faye had first seen them down in the octo city.

It occurred to Faye, being reminded of Margin, that perhaps the octolings wouldn’t want to spend time with the infamous Agent 3, but Anten seemed content to have her as their designated guide for the day. The other octoling in their group introduced herself so quietly that Faye didn’t actually hear her name, but in the interest of not wasting time and not knowing how many words they even had in common for a conversation, she didn’t ask her again.

They all set off with a given time to be at the square by, along with an octarian message by Marina – something something turf war, a message to think about whether they wanted to try it out by then – and Faye was left with a sudden weighty responsibility and the hopes that neither of these octolings were in the ‘trying to kill Agent 3’ business. Perhaps she should have tried putting some thought into what exactly she was going to give a tour of while she was busy zoning out earlier.

Fortunately, it didn’t seem to matter too much that she took a bit of a back seat. The octolings may have been new to Inkopolis, but they weren’t little kids. The next few hours were a lot of Faye paying very vague attention while Anten pointed things out to the other octoling, in octarian, which Faye could not understand, and she started to feel like there hadn’t been much use to her being here after all.

In particular, they seemed fascinated by the shops. That was something Eight had been amazed by at first, as well, along with just about everything else the city had to offer. Occasionally, Faye would be presented with a question she could just about understand, and had to think about the simplest possible way to explain what something was for. So far in the day she had learnt that clothes irons and dishwashers were not common objects in the octarian city.

Eventually it drew near to the time they were supposed to be meeting the others at the square, and Faye explained this while pointing to a sign that marked the way. After a few corners, the shy octoling pointed to the next one, seeming proud that she could now recognise the symbols. That was enough of an excuse for Faye to let her lead the way, intending to only take charge if it looked like she was going to get them hopelessly lost.

“So…” Anten said as the two of them walked side by side despite Faye’s best efforts to trail behind. “Agent 3?”

“Uh… Faye,” she responded uneasily, knowing the agent title probably meant _something_ to the octolings. A nightmare to tell their kids, maybe, although the youngest ones she’d seen had been within humanoid-form age. “Call me Faye.”

“Faye,” Anten echoed with a small nod, causing their heavy-looking hair to twitch. They pushed it back over their shoulder to keep it out of the way; it mostly hung limply like inkling hair did, but whether that was a result of something being done to it or a lack of expressiveness, Faye didn’t know. With a small motion, they pointed to the right side of their face. “Octavio?”

_Octavio?_ Faye held a blank stare for a long moment as she worked out what that was supposed to mean; then it occurred to her that they were trying to ask about the scar on her face. “Oh. No, not Octavio.” She self-consciously held a hand up to her cheek, feeling the rough burned-like skin against her fingertips.

“Ah.” They didn’t pry for further details, and even if that was only because they might not be able to fully understand whatever story she might give, Faye appreciated it. Anten pointed to their left ear, on the side where their tentacles were cut and sealed; there was a decently-sized hole torn clean through the edge of it. “Octavio,” they said with a wry smile.

“Really? Damn.” Faye had a feeling he didn’t treat his soldiers great, but _still_. What on earth had they done to deserve that? “He was a bad leader.”

“Yes.” Anten gave a dry laugh. “Did not like being told.”

They did not get a chance to elaborate as their group emerged into the busy atmosphere of Inkopolis Square. At mid-afternoon, it hadn’t yet hit the rush hours when most people finished work for the day, but it was still significantly more crowded than the rest of the city, especially with young turf-eager cephalopods not currently in education. After spending a few moments trying her best to scan the area when there was so much going on, Faye eventually determined they were the first group to make it here. Great.

She spent the next five minutes trying to divert from the fact they were awkwardly standing around waiting by pointing out the main stores, The Shoal, and Deca Tower, giving as simple an explanation as possible for what they sold or did. Faye had never felt such a wave of relief as she did when she saw Marina in the distance with her following of two, and the disguised DJ gave a quick wave and blew a not-so-subtle kiss to Pearl, alone in the wide-windowed studio, before heading over to join their groups.

The others arrived soon after. Eight seemed quiet, like she’d used up all her energy on her voluntary tour guide task, whereas Jake seemed happy to talk to Miles, even if the young octoling kept looking around warily as if he didn’t want anyone to witness them having a conversation. The other octoling with them, probably more around Faye’s age, didn’t seem concerned at all, so Miles probably wasn’t sharing any sensitive information. Perhaps he was just nervous being in such a crowd.

“Okay!” Marina announced once they were all together. “Hopefully everyone has a good idea of what the city’s like now. I’ll take anyone who wants to try turf war to get signed up; are any of you three joining?” She looked hopefully at her extra guides.

“Sheldon has my weapon,” Jake shrugged. “I needa pick it up, but, sure.”

“I did not bring mine, but I will look if there is a weapon I want to try,” Eight said.

Marina didn’t prompt Faye for a response, probably expecting she wouldn’t want to participate – either just from her own observation or from Eight telling her about the few private battles from last month, and Faye couldn’t decide which was worse – but she smiled at Eight. “You might want to go and look now. Sheldon will be a little busy when we come back with a bunch of new-membership coupons.”

“Okay,” Eight gave a small nod. She exchanged a quick look with Jake and Faye; the blue inkling made a motion for her to follow as he headed off towards Ammo Knights. Faye, not wanting to be left behind with Marina and a bunch of octolings she mostly didn’t know, trailed after them, her hands in her pockets.

She didn’t really fancy going into Ammo Knights, with the potential to end up facing a lecture from Sheldon about all sorts of different things he wished to sell her that she couldn’t afford and had no reason to buy. “I’m gonna head off,” she spoke up once she was within range for Eight to actually hear her over the crowds. “I’m not doing turf, so there’s no reason for me to hang around anymore.”

Eight halted so suddenly that a nearby inkling almost walked into her, muttering quietly as they diverted their path around instead. “Oh. Okay.” She seemed to deflate a little, as if the fact that Faye was going to leave hadn’t occurred to her until now. “Can we… hang… around? Sometime?” Her words were a little uncertain, as if she was trying to work out what the popular term was from Faye’s speech.

“For what? I don’t play matches.” That, as far as Faye knew, was most of what Eight did, other than her scrapbooking hobby which Faye also didn’t share.

“I… don’t know.” Eight wrung her hands, the twitching of her hair a little less enthusiastic than usual as she stared at the painted lines on the ground. “Just to… ‘hang out’?”

Faye bit back the first words that came to her mind – that Eight had other friends now, she didn’t need her anymore, there were so many other people she could hang out with. And yet… what Callie had said to her the other day flashed in her mind, silencing her before she could act.

_Stop pushing everyone away. You’re not the only one who’ll get hurt._

She’d been doing it for ages without realising; trying to push Eight away even though she was the closest friend Faye had known in _years_. It wasn’t fair on Eight. Inkopolis may not have been as new and frightening as when Eight first arrived on the surface, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want Faye around anymore. It’d be cruel to abandon her, even if Faye was terrified of the repercussions of letting anyone get too close.

_But it’s okay now. She doesn’t know where you are. She doesn’t know who your friends are. She doesn’t know anything about you anymore. She’s gone._

“Sure, I guess,” Faye eventually shrugged after a pause that had probably been awkwardly long. “Just give me some notice when you’re gonna show up. We can try to understand one of the Captain’s ancient board games, or something.”

Eight’s expression flipped in an instant, her eyes lighting up like she was seeing the sun for the first time again. “Yes! Okay. That sounds good.” She quickly glanced over to Ammo Knights, where Jake was waiting outside the door for her. “I will… see you soon?”

“Yeah. Sure.” Clinging to the last few scraps of extrovert she could muster, Faye held out one arm to her and pre-emptively placed the other hand on her hat so it wouldn’t get knocked off when there were so many people around. “Here. I’m feeling extra generous today.”

Her whole body was almost knocked over as Eight hugged her with more enthusiasm than even she herself had probably expected. Faye managed to catch her balance – and hat – before she could fall, glancing behind her in a brief moment of panic to make sure she wasn’t about to step on anyone by mistake. She still wasn’t sure how she felt about the whole hugging business, but it seemed to make Eight happy, so… that was a good thing. It still lasted slightly too long, for Faye’s liking, but at least Eight was more careful when she let go and made sure she didn’t drop her poor friend onto the concrete.

“Sorry,” Eight said hastily, holding her hands out for a second longer, as if Faye was going to suddenly collapse in front of her.

“I’m not _that_ weak,” Faye joked with a surprisingly genuine smile, patting Eight’s arm before she turned to leave. “See ya.”

“Bye!” Eight waved before speeding away – and almost crashing into someone else – to catch up with Jake.

Faye took a slight detour on her way around the square, so she didn’t have to awkwardly walk back past Marina and the octoling group to get back to the plaza – there was no way she was walking all the way back to the valley overground, that had been enough exercise just getting _out_ of that place – and as she headed through the first few streets, significantly quieter than the square, she found her thoughts drifting to Marie. She was the only other person Faye really considered a close friend these days. Faye hadn’t heard from her since the night of the mission, and part of her considered whether it was worth asking her if she wanted to hang out sometime too, if she could find the energy to do that with Eight.

Except… Eight was very easily entertained, and was content to just chill in the old cabin and play board games, whereas Faye got the impression that Marie was not. There was also, well, the fact that Marie was a celebrity, and had a much tighter schedule than a young splat-playing octoling. Since she wasn’t here helping out today, she was probably busy right now, anyhow. Best not to bother her.

Faye let out a quiet sigh. Perhaps she could try another day, or perhaps she was in too far over her head. She _knew_ the feeling she could feel festering inside her, and she knew if she tried to pursue it, it wouldn’t end well. These things never did, not outside of crazy fantasy stories. It was far too much to hope for. She was a washed-up ex-agent who couldn’t even take part in the local popular sport anymore.

But… she was a washed-up ex-agent who _did_ have friends. She let that positive thought wash over her, bringing slightly more of a spring to her step from her tired legs. It would be nice to spend time with Eight again, where they didn’t have to save and look after an entire civilisation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made Faye not hear that other octoling's name purely for the sake of not having to give her one so if you have an octoling oc who fits the personality and uses she/her then congratulations they have a cameo now


	7. Old Grudges

It had been a long time since Eight had last visited Ammo Knights, and in the brief moment of silence she got while Sheldon was busy finding Jake’s weapon for him, she tried to take in as much of her surroundings as possible. There were quite a few new things, in particular one section of the store that looked much fancier than the rest, decked out in entirely monochrome and deep red. Toni Kensa had a range of weapons out now, from the looks of things. Instantly drawn to them, Eight went to look at what their sub and special sets were.

Some of them had the _new_ ones, the ones she’d seen people using in matches recently once they were permitted within the regulations. The fizzy bomb looked interesting, but Eight did really like using the splat bombs her octoshot had. Her eyes rested on the small display note under the splattershot pro.

_Splat bombs sub._

_Booyah bomb special._

All Eight could do for a moment was _stare_ at that little rectangle of card, because _oh my goodness that’s the really cool special people have been using where the whole team cheers to charge it faster and the armour carries you into the sky and you get to throw a POWERFUL INK EXPLOSION_ and she hadn’t even noticed Jake was back with her until he spoke.

“Ouch. Fancy weapon prices.” He grimaced, speaking quietly so that Eight could catch his words but Sheldon wouldn’t.

And… well, taking a second look at the slightly smaller text below the weapon set, she couldn’t help but pull a face too, mostly hidden by her mask. He wasn’t wrong. This weapon, as well as all the others in this display, were certainly among the most expensive she’d seen. Her gaze rested back on Jake as she wondered if she should make any reply more than a ‘hmm’ of agreement, and she caught sight of the large case on his back.

Okay, that was… definitely not the small weapon she had predicted. Judging by its shape and size, there was only one thing it could be. “You use… a jet squelcher?”

Jake blinked at her in surprise for a moment before giving a small nod, his expression guarded as if he couldn’t decide if that was a positive or negative reaction. “I… like to not have to fight too close to people?”

Hmm. That did make sense. “I don’t see many people use them. Is it fun?” She might have used one in the metro once or twice, but the tests would have been a whole different experience to using them in matches.

“Yeah! I mean, I guess.” Jake shoved his hands into his pockets, shuffling his feet against the tiled floor. “I’m not, like, a really good player like you or Rollo or anything. I haven’t done many matches recently.”

_A really good player?_ Was that what she was? She hadn’t really thought that other people might see her like that. She knew Four was a good player, and that her own teammates were too, and she was _on their team_ , so logically…

“I think you would be okay,” Eight shrugged. “Maybe. I have never actually seen you play.”

“Well, thanks for the vote of confidence.” Jake gave a wry smile. He cast a quick glance at Sheldon, making sure the crab was busy with another customer and wouldn’t overhear any keywords and gravitate towards them with a fifty-word explanation of every weapon in the store. “Did you find anything? Or did you just gaze longingly at the rich people weapons?”

Eight took a last look at the monochrome splattershot pro, wishing Jake’s last sentence hadn’t been so painfully correct. She probably _could_ afford it, but only just, and that was far too much money to gamble on a weapon she didn’t know if she’d be able to use. “… No,” she said eventually, forcing her eyes to look elsewhere, at an advert for weapon repair services instead. “Maybe I will pass for today. It might not be an even match for me to play against lots of new players.” Even if most of the octolings had been soldiers previously, turf war wasn’t quite the same as the war it took its name from.

* * *

Eight and Jake left the store when Marina returned with slightly less octolings than before; not all of them wanted to try turf war, but the group of five she had with her now had coupons with them for the default gear and weapon given to newbies. The small store seemed busy just with that group, but the square wasn’t much better. Eight found herself looking around in the hopes that Three might have decided to wait after all, but much as she’d expected, the older agent was nowhere to be seen.

_She said we could spend time together again, though._ Eight wondered whether it was too soon after the offer to head over to the old cabin today, since she wasn’t going to play matches… it probably was. Perhaps she could do some shifts of salmon run instead. There were some interesting-looking shoes in the rewards this month, and she _did_ kind of want to save up more for that weapon…

Two of the remaining octolings from the group were chatting to each other, about how interesting the city was and other casual things that Eight didn’t fancy eavesdropping on because that was usually considered rude, but nearby Miles stood by himself, staring through the window of Ammo Knights at the displays.

“Hey Miles,” Jake spoke up, and the young octoling seemed to startle at being addressed. “You’re not going to try turf war?”

Miles took a few steps back, as if he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. He watched Jake’s confused look at his reaction and pulled his arms around himself. “No… no, I—I no can. I no can fight. I have one eye.”

“So?” Jake shrugged. “My brother is blind in one eye and he’s one of the best players I know.”

“He is?” The apprehension in Miles’ eye and shoulders faded a little. “Who is he?”

“Rollo. Uh—” Jake glanced around quickly to make sure nobody was listening in. “Agent 4? He uses a roller.”

“Whoa…” Miles gained a look of wonder, casting a quick look in the direction of the lobby, deflating a little when he realised he didn’t know how to sign up by himself. “Maybe another time. I… did not know they would let me in.”

Eight remembered what Marina had told them on the day of the mission; that Miles hadn’t been allowed to train as a soldier because of his visual impairment. No wonder he didn’t expect to be allowed to play ink sports now. “Did Four say he would meet us?” she asked Jake.

“Hm? Oh, yeah.” He gave a small nod, taking his phone out of a pocket to check for messages; there seemed to be one. “He’s around here somewhere with his team. Sean’s, I think. Let’s go look.”

Jake led the way through the crowd, Eight following after him and motioning for Miles to come too, who did so after a brief hesitation. It didn’t take them long to find the group of squids gathered around one of the larger tables. Eight recognised Four and Harper, as well as the other members of their team who she’d only seen a couple of times before; Ada, and Delilah who was standing. There was another inkling with them, and at first glance Eight thought Marie was there, but after the quick realisation that their hair was cut into strands (didn’t that hurt?) and the white was tipped with reddish-pink instead of green, she knew it was someone she hadn’t met before.

Harper was the first to notice them, opening her mouth to say something, but after a small “shh” motion from Jake she shut it again, trying not to snicker as she awaited what would happen next. Jake made a beeline for his brother, who was talking to Ada and hasn’t noticed them yet, and quickly snatched the cap off his head.

“ _Hey_ —!” Four snapped around immediately, the hostile look on his face fading as he recognised his little brother, but he still sprung up from his seat. “Give that back, you little shit.”

“Nope!” Jake grinned, placing it on his own head as he skipped away. “Mine now.”

Four seemed to contemplate chasing after him, then shrugged and sank back down into his chair. “Just give it back before we go back in. I’ve been practicing all morning, bro.”

“Aw. Killjoy.”

Harper, who had been laughing at their antics along with most of the others at the table, looked around at their little group and noticed Miles at last. “ _Whoa_! What happened to your—” She broke off suddenly at a stern look from Four. “I _mean_ — hello! That’s all I was going to say. I definitely wasn’t going to ask about the scar.”

“Harper, you are a lost cause,” Ada rolled her eyes. She hadn’t been there when Harper had met Three, but either she’d heard about it, or Harper was just always like that. Perhaps both. “Ignore her, kid. She’s nosey.” She reached over and gave Harper’s shoulder a gentle shove.

“It’s just part of my _charming_ _personality_ ,” Harper huffed, folding her arms.

“Is this who you wanted me to stick around for?” Delilah asked. There was a slight hint of dislike in her gaze when she looked at Eight; that was one of the reasons Eight didn’t really like her much either, other than the fact that she was _really_ _tall_ for an inkling, and that intimidated her. “I gotta get to work or I’ll be late.”

“You can at least say _hi_ , Dee,” Harper threw her a sulky look.

Delilah matched her gaze with something akin to a scowl. “Sure. Hi. And bye. I got things to do.” She hiked the case for her tenta brella further up her shoulder as she marched away without a second glance, soon disappearing into the bustle of the square.

“Wow,” the smaller white-haired squid muttered from where she sat on Harper’s other side. “Who pissed in her cereal?”

“Eight,” Harper shrugged, and the octoling in question threw her an alarmed look. She definitely hadn’t done anything of the sort! “I mean, she’s one of Merce’s teammates.”

_Oh. That was an expression._

“Ahhh,” the new squid nodded, as if that explained everything. “Geez. Ray of sunshine.”

“I know, right?” Harper aimed a huff towards the place where Delilah had last been seen. “Anyway!” She waved her sulkiness away with a hand, and reached out to pat Eight’s arm, which she hadn’t quite been expecting. “Eight, this is Ilia. She’s my old school friend. She’s also my ex, because I don’t hold endless grudges over them like _some_ _people_ do.”

Ilia rolled her eyes. “Harper, we dated for _two_ _weeks_. When we were _twelve_.”

“ _You_ were twelve. _I_ was thirteen!”

“You turned thirteen, like, three days before we broke up.”

“ _Technicalities_.” Harper waved her hands again as if to waft away the conversation.

“I need to head off too,” Ada said with a half-hearted smile, collecting her weapon case from under the table. “I gotta grab my stuff before class. You guys have fun, k?” She hesitated briefly before she left, and held a hand out towards Eight. “I don’t think we’ve ever properly met – Ada. Sorry about the way Delilah is. I’ll… try and talk to her later.”

Eight hesitated for a moment before shaking her hand. “Eight. Hello.”

Ada gave a friendly smile – she was _nice_ , that was so much better than her team captain – and waved to them all as she left.

Harper tugged on Eight’s sleeve and patted the now-empty seat next to her. “So, who’s your friend? Not Jake. I know Jake. Jake is cool. He plays Squid Beatz with me sometimes.”

Eight sat down, the metal chair still warm from its previous occupant, and looked around to find where Miles had gone. He was hanging back from them a little, not knowing most of the people here, and potentially put off by Harper’s initial greeting which he hadn’t tried to respond to, if he’d even understood what she was saying in the first place. Eight wondered if she should try and beckon him over to them, but Ilia beat her to it, waving an arm.

“Hi! What’s your name?” she asked, making only a quick glance at the scar on his face, thankfully.

Miles took a nervous step forwards, his hair twitching in such a way that it almost blocked his remaining eye. “Um… Miles.”

Four, on Eight’s other side, stood up from his seat again, snatching his hat back from Jake while the smaller inkling was distracted. “Here,” he offered the chair to Miles, who gazed up at him with a look of awe before nodding quietly and taking the seat. It looked like Miles had found himself a role model after what Jake had told him.

“Hi Miles! I’m Ilia,” she said with a warm smile. “Don’t worry if you’re new around here, I’ve been gone for three years. I don’t know anyone either. Except Harper.”

“I am very memorable,” Harper nodded enthusiastically. Her curiosity becoming too much for her, she tilted her head to get a better look at Miles. “If it’s okay for me to ask, how _did_ you get that scar?”

“Oh. Um… a… building fall.” Miles didn’t look too upset about being asked; if anything, he was probably used to everyone already knowing about the accident, and actually trying to explain it seemed new to him. “Metal hit me.”

“Ooh, _ouch_ ,” Harper winced. “And it took out your entire eye? Damn. That must have hurt.”

“Y-yeah. I guess it did.”

“Ooh, ooh, Ilia.” Harper nudged her friend, the hint of a smirk appearing on her face. “You should tell the arm story.”

“The ar—oh, right.” Ilia gave a small roll of her eyes. “So, like… y’see this?” She lifted up her right arm, which had been hidden under the table until now – and Eight blinked in surprised as she realised that just above the elbow it stopped as a stump.

“You lost your arm?” Jake gasped, no doubt remembering his own experience from last year. Eight still didn’t know how exactly he’d lost his, but it had grown back since.

“Yeah. There I was the other day, just minding my own business,” Ilia made a small motion moving her shoulders back and forth, as if she was jogging. “And then suddenly… my arm just _falls_ _off_.”

She was met with a stunned silence. Miles stared at her in horror. Eight couldn’t help but look quickly at her own hands – _they can fall off? Just like that?_ – until Harper burst out into laughter.

“Your _face_!” she wheezed, slamming one hand on the table. “Oh my _cod_ , that always gets _someone_.”

Ilia grinned. “Okay, nah, I’m just kiddin’. I was born without it. I used to pull that story on the kids at school, but I’m surprised it still works.”

Eight couldn’t help but let out a small sigh of relief that she wouldn’t really have to worry about her limbs deciding to dismember themselves. “Will it not grow back?”

“Nah. It can’t grow back if it never existed in the first place,” Ilia shrugged. “Don’t worry, though, I’m good. There’s only a handful of things that absolutely require two hands.”

“Does turf re… re…quire… two hands?” Miles asked quietly.

“Yeah.” She gave a half-hearted smile. “I mean, I dunno, maybe if I just made my left arm really buff I could hold a weapon.” Ilia jokingly flexed her full arm, and Eight couldn’t tell if she was disappointed about not being able to take part in turf war or not.

Eight noticed Four and Jake waving and realised that Marina and the turf war group had caught up with them at last. All of them, sans Marina herself, were now decked out in the headbands, sneakers, and bright yellow t-shirts given to new players.

“The rest of the gang’s here,” Four said with a nod to them. “Harper, think you can go easy on some new players in turf war?”

“Heck yeah!” Harper sprung up from her seat in an instant.

“I think you’re the one we should be worried about, Ro,” Jake muttered, nudging his brother in the side.

“Oh, shush. I’m not _that_ mean.” Four gently cuffed him around the head, softly enough that it wouldn’t hurt. “Are you joining in, uh… _friend_?” He struggled for a moment to find a way to address Marina.

It took her a second to realise he was. “Oh! No, I, uh… I can’t, today. I don’t have a weapon with me.” She most likely just didn’t want to have to change into regular turf gear, because then there was no doubt some of the inklings would recognise her. “I have something I need to do, but… if we meet outside the lobby in an hour or so I can guide the others back?”

“Sure.” Four nodded. “One hour, Harp—uh…” He looked around when she wasn’t where she’d been a moment ago; now she was talking to one of the octolings.

“Is your hair sealed?” she asked, having to tilt her head back a little to speak to Anten and looking utterly dwarfed by their height. “It’s sealed, right? Where did you get it done? They won’t let me do that until I’m _eighteen_ , and it _sucks_ , because I have to cut my hair _every other day_ to get it to stay like this! But, like, that’s only just over a year to go, you see, so it’s not _too_ far away, and like, maybe you know a cool place? Or was it somewhere outside Inkopolis? There aren’t many places that do it here. I guess it was. You’re new, right? I don’t think I’ve seen you before. You’re really tall.”

Anten stared blankly at Harper, struggling to understand all the words coming out of her mouth with their limited knowledge of inkling. “Uh…” They cast a glance at Marina in a silent cry for help.

“Oh, sorry! Sorry.” Marina stepped in for damage control. “Um—Harper, was that your name? They’re new to Inkopolis, from somewhere… quite different, with a different language.”

“Ohhh, okay.” She nodded wisely, but took a moment to look at Marina through narrowed eyes. “Have we met before?”

“I… don’t think so!” Marina tried to subtly pull her scarf up higher, and the colour in her hair flickered for a moment as she made sure it was still blue. “I’m not from here either.”

“Everyone always looks so familiar to me nowadays, I swear I’m going nuts.” Harper shook her head. “Well, it was nice meeting you!” She turned back to her friend. “Ilia, are you gonna be okay if I go play turf war with the newbies?”

“What am I, five?” Ilia stuck her tongue out; Harper’s mannerisms were spreading, apparently. “I’ll be _fine_! I’m just waiting for my cousin to pick me up after their appointment anyhow.”

“Are you staying?” Eight gave a hopeful look up at Marina. It wasn’t only Three that she never got to spend time with; Marina and Pearl were so busy, and even though they _tried_ to make time for her, it ended up being incredibly sparse.

Her mouth was covered by the scarf, but from the slight crease of her eyes Eight could see through the shades, Marina gave a fond smile. She put a gentle hand on Eight’s shoulder; gloved, to hide the coloured tint of her fingers. “I have to arrange some transport to get everyone back. You’ll be fine; maybe you’ll make some new friends?”

Eight suppressed a small sigh. New friends were alright, but she wanted to spend time with her _old_ friends. At least it was just Miles, who she sort of knew, and Ilia, who seemed nice, and two other octolings who may or may not decide to join them. She could handle that.

* * *

The rumbling of an engine marked the return of the group Marina had taken to the city as a decently-sized vehicle trundled up into the hotel’s courtyard, released its passengers, and left with a retreating growl. A sizeable chunk of the group had new outfits on; Miles was not among them, hanging back as usual, only following after the others into the building when Marina prompted him to.

Margin had memorised the sound of his footsteps on the stairs, because he was the only one she cared to see, but she didn’t hear them. Perhaps being exposed to whatever the inklings’ home city was like had brainwashed him after all. Part of her had wanted to demand he stay behind, but… she wanted to know what it was like, and it was unlikely any of the others would tell her if she asked. Miles was the only one who gave her the respect she deserved.

When she eventually heard someone ascending the stairs, it definitely wasn’t Miles; they moved with too much confidence. Margin didn’t turn her head, just remained leaning against the wall, staring out the window and lamenting on the fact that she’d actually taken to _doing_ _that_ because there was nothing else in her room. The small environment made her claustrophobic and gave her another feeling she couldn’t quite place, but she told herself she was surveying the surroundings by watching the outside, and that made her feel like less of a traitor for taking in this world the inklings had forced upon her.

“Hello, Margin. How are you doing?”

It was Marina. Of course it was Marina. “Great. Absolutely fine. I _love_ it here.”

“Well, that would be wonderful if it wasn’t sarcasm.” Marina made a noise, and Margin couldn’t tell if it was a sigh or a laugh. The floorboards creaked a little as she approached and sat at the far end of the bed, something around her rustling.

Margin knew, instinctively, she should have been paying attention to her, in case Marina tried a sudden attack or something, but right now she just didn’t have the energy. Apparently her lack of acknowledgement was cause for concern.

“Have you eaten today?”

“No.”

“When did you last eat?”

“Underground.”

“Dear cod, Margin, you’ll _starve_. No wonder you look so lethargic.” Marina’s voice rose into one of concern, and _why do you care you’re supposed to want me out of the way so there’s no opposition to you controlling everyone._ “You know there’s food in the kitchens. We made sure there was enough for everyone.”

Margin pulled her knees in closer to her body, ignoring the fierce biting in her stomach. She, like most octolings, was used to food being somewhat scarce, with their limited ability to grow things underground, but she’d never been without anything for this long before. “I won’t let you poison me.”

“I can assure you, everyone else has eaten the food here, and the only negative effects have been a few stomach aches from overeating.” That was definitely a sigh this time. “If you’re really insistent on staying in your room, I can go and get you something, but—”

“No.” Maybe she hadn’t done anything so far, but Margin wasn’t giving her the chance to mess with any food that was specifically for _her_. She turned to look at the older octoling for the first time, her glare as fierce as she could muster. “I can do it myself.”

“Okay. But as long as you _do_.” Marina didn’t look hostile at all; she just seemed concerned for her. That was very untrustworthy, because Marina had absolutely _no_ _reason_ to care about Margin, save for anything she might do that would get in the way of whatever plan she had. Heck, maybe Marina specifically needed her alive for whatever it was, but Margin did not plan on foiling that part specifically. Maybe she was the only one left who could still do anything about it. “If you haven’t come down to get food by the time I leave, I’ll send someone up with something for you.”

Margin realised with a fresh sting of betrayal that she wasn’t entirely sure she trusted the other octolings anymore now, either. “Okay.” She noticed the plastic bag Marina had with her at last, and her narrowed gaze fixed on it as Marina lifted it onto the bed.

“I got something for you in town,” she explained, and despite how much effort it took, Margin still managed to shuffle away untrustingly. “I thought maybe you might be happier up here if you had more stuff to do, and I’m still not sure about going into city, so in the meantime…” she reached into the bag, pulling out a handful of objects; two books and a small collection of pens and pencils. “I don’t know if you’re the creative type, but Eight really liked writing poems when she first came up to the surface. I didn’t know if you could write, so I got some plain paper too just in case.” She placed the whole collection on the mattress and slid them a few inches closer to Margin. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, of course. I just thought you might want to give it a try.”

Margin regarded her with a blank look before tentatively reaching out and picking up one of the books, flicking through the empty pages and letting it cause a gentle breeze against her face. “… This is some kind of test, right? You’re trying to get me to write down whatever info you want?”

“No test. I promise I won’t look at them if you don’t want me to.”

“You promise a lot of things.”

“I’m sure about a lot of things.”

Margin gave a disdainful snort. “Sure.” She dropped the book down on the sheets in front of her, causing it to make a satisfying _fwap_ noise. “Thank you? Is that the magic words that’ll make you leave me alone?”

Marina gave a small smile. “I’ll leave you alone if you’ll come down and get something to eat.”

“That was not our earlier agreement.”

“I never promised anything then.” Her smile grew a little wider, in an annoyingly smug way, as she stood up from the mattress and held out a hand. “Come on. You’ll feel better when you’ve had some food.”

For a moment, Margin stared at her with a cautious look. Then she slowly climbed off the bed, making as much of a detour away from Marina as possible in the most obvious show of refusing to take her hand. “Fine. Just don’t touch anything you want me to eat. I can’t trust you.”

“I understand,” Marina gave a small nod. “I don’t need you to trust me; just to make sure you stay healthy. Which is a whole lot easier up on the surface, might I add.”

Margin didn’t dignify her with a response. _The only reason we haven’t been on the surface all this time is because of the inklings. We should force all of them to live underground for the next century and see what happens._

“Perhaps in a few days we could go into the city,” Marina added, almost as an afterthought, as she began leading the way to the ground floor kitchen. “As I said before, you’re more than welcome to look around the nearby area, and I’m sure that’s a lot more interesting than holing up in your room all day. I think you’d like Inkopolis, though; Miles seemed to have fun, and so did the others.”

“He did?” So, Miles _was_ getting dragged into whatever scheme this was after all. Margin made a mental note, as she made her way sluggishly down the stairs, that she needed to ask him about today’s events as soon as possible. She needed to make sure he wasn’t being _used_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marina in her spare time: (looking up resources on how to be a good parent to an angry teenager)


	8. Junkyard Dog

Miles was not used to moving around a lot, or seeing anything that wasn’t within the inner base walls, so just emerging on the surface had multiplied the size of his world by at least five, and then by maybe a further ten going into Inkopolis. There was _so_ _much_ to see, and so much freedom, and those were two things he’d never had. If you weren’t a soldier, you were confined to the city. He always wanted to ask Margin about what she saw on missions, but she was rarely sent on anything outside the base either. Not to mention, she’d probably chastise him for dreaming of the outside world.

And now they were here, and it was better than he could’ve possibly imagined, and he was such a bad person for thinking that because this wasn’t his _home_ , their home was in the underground city, they were supposed to wait for Octavio and then somehow take this place by force with the handful of soldiers who would even care enough to go back to their leader in the first place.

Miles wouldn’t be needed, though. He was irrelevant, just an injured child who would be a burden if he tried to get involved, and he was useful for fixing things and not much else. So would it really matter what he did now?

It would matter to Margin, though, and she was his best friend, so that was important. He _had_ planned to go up and see her when he got back from the city, but his legs were so tired and there were _so_ _many_ stairs to get to the third floor, so he opted to rest for a short while, fingers twitching as he stared at the screen of the simple phone he’d been given, like everyone else, to contact the others, or Marina in case of emergencies. She had told him that he was to absolutely in no circumstances take this thing apart, because he might _need_ it and there were bits inside it that could be _dangerous_ when exposed, and that only made him want to dissect it _more_ just to find out what exactly could make an innocent communications device so deadly when in pieces.

He hadn’t expected Margin to come downstairs after her adamant pledge to stay in her room, something about not wanting to make use of the world the inklings had given her (he didn’t dare mention that the inklings did sort of technically give her the room), but there was a look in her eyes when he met her gaze that instantly made him want to recoil, turn into an octopus and cram himself in the cushions of the old sofa. He became instantly worried that she could read his mind, somehow, that she would know he had spoken to some inklings today and thought they weren’t that bad, actually, and he would kind of like to speak to them more, and _traitor traitor traitor just like everyone else_. That would be what she would say to him, and she wouldn’t be wrong.

But… the inklings didn’t seem like they were plotting anything. Marina had explained to all of them that most inklings didn’t even know the underground domes existed, and it would be a pleasant surprise to them that octolings were still around if they could even recognise them as a separate species in the first place. Harper _had_ seemed rather surprised at first when Ilia asked if he was an octoling, and then turned to Eight and said ‘oh yeah, _you’re_ an octoling!’ and Eight had just nodded, looking like she hoped Harper wouldn’t try to think too deeply into what their connection might be.

And who _was_ Eight, anyway? Miles had never seen her in the base, and she couldn’t even speak octarian. She was only a few years older than him, and most young octolings were raised together due to a lack of resources, making sure that anyone who actually made it out of the risky incubation stage managed to survive their pre-training years. Perhaps she had been someone important, like Margin, and therefore hadn’t grown up alongside the regular soldiers. Wouldn’t Margin have known her then, though?

“ **Hey**.” Miles almost startled out of his humanoid form as Margin dropped down next to him on the sofa, holding an apple. “ **Marina made me get food, because I’m supposed to believe she cares about my wellbeing.”**

“ **Oh**.” Miles felt a little guilty that he hadn’t noticed her not eating; food had always been provided for him, in rather small amounts since he was not a soldier and was usually fed the scraps they could spare, so it wasn’t really in his instincts to make sure others had food. “ **Sorry**.”

“ **This would be so much more bearable if she would stop trying to get me to _like_ her**,” Margin huffed, turning the fruit in her hands as she examined it for what was probably not the first time. “ **Like, sorry you betrayed us and ran away and all that. It’s not like you’re actively making sure Octavio loses control of his own army or anything**.” She took a small bite of the apple and did a double-take once the taste hit her, holding it a little further away from her as she stared at it. “ **What did they _do_ to these things!? They’re so**…”

“ **Juicy**?” Miles offered, a small smile making its way onto his face at last. Most of their food in the underground city had been fruit and vegetables, because they were easy to produce in large quantities, but the ones up on the surface tasted so much _better_. “ **It’s because there’s lots of light and fresh air up here. The plants need that to survive, and the sun is a lot better than the synthetic lights we use, so they have a lot more flavour!** ”

Margin threw him one of the looks she usually gave when he was explaining something technical and she didn’t particularly care for a simpler translation. “ **Cool**. **More things the inklings took from us**.” She shrugged and took another bite, larger this time. Miles was glad she didn’t refuse to eat the rest out of spite. “ **So. Inkopolis. Tell me**.”

_Oh_. _Right_. Of course she would want to hear about it; she wasn’t allowed to go there yet. Perhaps he should try and make it sound far less interesting than he’d actually found it so she wouldn’t get jealous – if she even cared enough to in the first place. “ **It’s… big. There’s lots of buildings. And… lots of people who aren’t inklings. There’s jellyfish everywhere. And there’s shops and stuff too – and turf war, like they told us about, which Jake thinks I can actually take part in.** ”

“ **Jake**?” Margin shot him a look through narrowed eyes, knowing she didn’t recognise the name.

“ **Um—the—the little blue inkling who was here before? H-his name is Jake**.” Was it okay that he knew what his name was? That wasn’t betraying Octavio, was it? Just knowing a name? That was helpful information to, uh, identify your enemies, or something – even if Jake had seemed far too friendly to be an enemy, but maybe he was just _secretly_ an enemy.

“ **Hmm**. **Okay**.” To his relief, it looked more like she was taking a mental note of this information than finding him suspect over it. She took another thoughtful bite out of her apple – Miles kind of wanted one too, now. He was a little hungry after being out all afternoon; hopefully there were some left. “ **I’m thinking of surveying the nearby area tomorrow. You coming with**?”

“ **You mean… like, looking around the mountain**?”

“ ** _Surveying_ the _area_**.”

Okay, so she didn’t want to admit that she actually wanted to go and explore. That was a very Margin thing to do. It did make it sound cool, though; like going on an actual mission, the way he’d dreamed about when he was confined to the recovery unit before his city-bound fate had been revealed to him. He also _did_ want to see what else was on this mountain, and he wasn’t quite brave enough to venture out on his own yet. “ **Surveying the area. Okay!** ”

* * *

The air was so clear up on the surface.

That was one of the first things Margin had noticed when they went above ground for the first time, but she’d been too focused on struggling to keep her octoling form walking up the mountain because she was absolutely _not_ going to let anyone carry her, tasered or not. There had been no time to look around then, and she’d spent the rest of the time since in her room, which gave her plenty of time to think.

If she did stay in there, not only would it be incredibly boring, but she would have no way of knowing when Octavio even returned, because how would he get a message to her in the first place? There was also the fact that if she hid away in her room, any respect the other octolings still had for her would also vanish, and then she’d have no hope of convincing them to return. If they were happy to roll over and accept the inklings’ ‘help’ like a bunch of weaklings, that was on them, but hopefully when the time came they would still be willing to get the revenge they deserved.

After a bunch of new experiences of the day, such as taking a shower in a place that had plumbing, changing into some new clothes Marina had left her ( _ugh_ ), and eating breakfast for the first time in her life, Margin left the building and climbed onto one of the flowerbed walls as she waited for Miles to join her. There wasn’t as good of a view here as from her third-floor window, because mostly everything was blocked by trees on one side and mountain on the other.

Knowing it would probably be a while before Miles was ready – or even _awake_ , he’d never been on a strict sleep schedule – Margin tried to sort her handful of supplies and wished she had some kind of bag to put them in. She’d brought one of the books with her, the one with lines, and hooked a pen into the coil binding in the hopes it wouldn’t fall out. Whether she would find any use for it was yet to be seen, but it would be helpful to have something to take notes on.

There was also the phone Marina had given her before she left, because of either eavesdropping on her conversation or guessing she might take the next step of leaving the building soon, and this was a good time to actually work out what it could do. It was mostly for sending messages or calls, and Marina actually had the guts to inform her that there was a location detector on it, which was ‘only for if she got lost’ and could be turned off at any point, which she did _immediately_ because she did _not_ want Marina keeping an eye on her every move. There was also some kind of internet browser installed, but opening it only met her with a warning about ‘parental controls’ and nothing else. At the very least, the phone could fit in the pocket of her jeans, so she wouldn’t have to carry it around in her hands all day. The notebook was slightly too big for that.

[10:27] **get out here already**

There. A message to Miles, who was the only person she had added as a contact other than Marina, who _insisted_ on remaining on there _in case of emergencies_. What classified as an emergency, Margin didn’t know. The building was on fire? They ran out of bread? The _bread_ was on fire?

Miles didn’t send a replying message, but he finally showed up five minutes later, still looking half asleep. He had a thick hoodie on over his clothes, one he must have just pulled from the pile Marina had left for them all because it was far too big for him. He always did seem to favour larger clothes, though, like he wanted to make himself look small.

“ **Oh, _finally_ ,**” Margin rolled her eyes and hopped down from the short wall, immediately wishing she’d stayed up there because she, opposite to her friend, much rather liked to feel tall. She was not. It was incredibly unfair that Octavio’s DNA hadn’t given her his incredible size, and instead she was left at less than the average height of an _inkling_. Miles was already a few inches taller than her, and he was only fourteen. Life could be cruel sometimes. “ **Let’s go already. I want to see as much of this place as we can.”**

“ **Are we going far**?” Miles asked quietly, the hint of a whine in his voice. “ **My legs still hurt from walking so much yesterday.”**

“ **Then this is a great time to make them stronger** ,” Margin insisted. The path crunched under her boots as she led their duo away from the hotel, making a mental note to keep an eye out for landmarks because she did _not_ want to have to ask Marina for help if they got lost. Perhaps Miles would conveniently remember the way from yesterday, but he’d only walked _down_ the mountain, not back up. “ **If you absolutely think you’re going to _die_ we can take breaks. Short ones. I don’t want to hang around for too long.”**

Miles let out a small sigh, shoving his hands into the hoodie pockets before following after her. “ **Okay.** ”

There wasn’t a whole lot to see, at first, because everything around them was trees, trees and more trees. Leaving the path at all near the hotel was a no-go, because the plants beyond it were knee-high and wrapped in spikey leaves from other plants. After a short walk, the path connected to another wider one, and the corner was marked with an ancient-looking sign that someone had attempted to tear down at some point, leaving only the ‘TE’ of ‘hotel’. Margin paused briefly to jot this down, deciding that a simple point-to-point doodle was a much better way of navigation than the complex-looking maps they’d been given.

This new path gave them the option of going up or down the mountain, and she chose up first simply on the basis that there would be a better view from the top, if it wasn’t also smothered with trees. As they found out twenty minutes later, the _very_ top of the mountain was rocky and too difficult to access, but the path led up to a small picnic area with benches and tables and a single unlit lamppost in the middle.

Miles, in his unfitness, made a beeline for the benches while Margin looked around. She threw him a disapproving glance before giving up and deciding it wasn’t technically _his_ fault he hadn’t been properly trained, so she could let him have the rest he so desired for now. He was immediately sucked into something on his phone anyhow, so any complaint would be lost on him.

Margin headed for the side of the plateau, glad that they were actually above the treeline here and she could finally _see_ everything around them. There was so much more than just what she’d seen from her window, the city and lakes and rivers and trees and _ginormous_ bridges and a strange-looking circular contraption in the far distance that she couldn’t decipher the use for from so far away. She glanced at Miles, fully engrossed in a puzzle game, and guessed he wasn’t likely to know much about things on the surface either. He was creative in technology and good at building things, but usually needed to see a machine’s innards to know what exactly it was supposed to do.

Then, on the other side, away from the city, there was… a lot of empty space. Strange black spires ominously guarded the area, and as she looked around with more attention, Margin realised they seemed to stretch the entire way around the city too, unless the furthest side didn’t have them. What was their purpose? Did they do anything? Did inklings always make things that _did_ something, or did they just have really strange artistic taste? Was _everything_ up here made by the inklings, or were other species involved too?

It wasn’t as if any of the other species in this city had stopped the inklings from forcing them to live underground for a century, though. It was their fault, too, that this was the first time any of the octolings were experiencing the surface world. Still, Margin couldn’t quite muster the same level of animosity towards them.

“ **Whoa… there’s so much out here**.”

Lost in her own thoughts, Margin hadn’t noticed Miles leave his seat, but her dim awareness meant she wasn’t too startled by him suddenly appearing next to her. “ **I guess. I don’t trust it all**.” One hundred years was a long time for setting up traps, creating defences to make sure your enemies stayed out…

“ **I—sure. I get it.** ” Miles didn’t meet her gaze, focusing instead on something further down the mountain, on the far side from the city and the hotel. “ **What’s _that_ place?**”

“ **What?** ” Margin struggled for a moment to work out what he was looking at; there were lots of grass and trees and rocks and the very occasional shelter, but eventually she spotted a patch of land scraped out of the side of the hills, and piled up with what looked to be discarded metal and the remains of vehicles. It… looked rather like the landfill areas outside their base, except no octoling would dare throw away anything that could be used for materials. “ **Looks like a waste**.”

“ **Can we go there?** ” He gave her a hopeful look.

“ **Only if your poor wittle legs can manage walking that far**.” When Miles didn’t laugh at her joke, Margin managed to give her first smile in days, and fortunately it was reflected back, just a little. “ **Sure**. **We can go look at some inkling trash, just for you**.”

* * *

It was a longer walk to the place than Miles had expected, mostly downhill and sure to be a much more strenuous hike back up, but curiosity over what might be there fuelled him despite how tired he was. The surface was pretty, sure, but he much preferred _doing_ over seeing, and if his instincts were right and there were a lot of materials down there…

He’d never been allowed access to anything like that before. Large materials were for making their base and defences. Usually the only thing he was given was leftover wires, and had to resort to jotting down vague ideas for things he thought _might_ work. If there was a whole _pile_ of things left over that nobody wanted, that was _so exciting_.

When they finally made it there, the place was surrounded by a sturdy high fence, but there was no gate to block a large arch leading into it. There were words painted onto the sign, old and faded, but it was written in the language of the surface he didn’t yet know how to read.

“ **Nantai Junkyard**.” Margin conveniently _did_ know how to read the inklings’ language, and paused only briefly to translate the sign before shrugging and passing through. “ **Guess they really don’t want this stuff after all.** ”

That was the greatest news Miles had heard in his entire life. With a fresh burst of enthusiasm, he ran forward to take the lead, skipping to an eventual stop in the clearing in the middle of the mountains of metal as he stared around in amazement. There were all sorts of objects here, most of them old and rusted, but he didn’t care. Old mattresses, cloth filled with holes, rotting wooden chairs, the charred corpse of a car. There was so much more he couldn’t recognise or distinguish, and a lot of the stuff in the piles was difficult to see because of sunlight reflecting off the metal.

“ **There’s enough stuff here to build half a new base** ,” Margin commented, and when Miles looked over he was relieved to see she didn’t seem to be genuinely considering it. They didn’t _need_ a new base. They had the old hotel, which was already multiple times nicer to live in than the domes and infinitely better than anything the two of them could build.

He didn’t dare say any of this out loud. Not in front of Margin.

“ **Maybe there’s something in here we could use for something else** ,” he suggested, trying to change the subject.

“ **Like what?** ”

“ **Um… furniture? Maybe?** ”

“ **Ah yes. Furniture. That will help our cause immensely. We can fight the inklings with a bedside table. That’ll throw them off.”**

Miles held his tongue, not wanting to mention that he didn’t think they would have to fight off any inklings any time soon, or ever, but Margin was always _so_ _sure_ of everything. Maybe she was right. Maybe this was all a ploy, and the inklings _were_ plotting something, and he was just the stupid fool who was blinded by their false kindness. That had to be it. He would have to keep his guard up.

There weren’t any inklings here now, though, and unless they had booby-trapped their garbage, looking around here was fine, in the Margin Book Of Rules.

“ **I just thought it might be nice. Or useful**.” There was so much you could do with furniture. Like… put things on it. Put _yourself_ on it, if you wanted to sit down. Miles pulled a torn-up curtain aside, seeing a vague solid-looking shape underneath and expecting another old chair, but instead was met with another glint of the noon sunlight he wasn’t yet used to, wincing at the slight sting it caused his eyes. Moving to a slightly different angle, he took a moment to realise what he was looking at. “ **Oh, cool**.”

“ **What?** ” Margin caught up in an instant, curious to know what he found so interesting. “ **Oh. A motorbike. That _is_ pretty cool**.”

It was half-buried in the pile, but it didn’t look too rusted yet, just around the very edges of the frames, and the headlight at the front had a slight crack in it. Miles gave an experimental tug to see if he could free it, but it didn’t budge.

“ **Move. I’ll do it**.” Margin lightly nudged him aside, taking a moment to size up what was weighing this thing down – mostly the remains of an old table, and a few other things that weren’t supporting _too_ much and wouldn’t bring the whole pile crashing down on them. Miles stepped back just in case.

Margin was a lot stronger than her small frame would suggest. She grabbed the bike’s handlebars, lighting pulling at first to test the waters before heaving it back. The table holding it down creaked and scraped against the metal as it slid past, its feeble legs collapsing under it. A few unknown objects were dislodged by the force, rolling and clattering on the ground around them with an awful noise that made Miles take a few more steps away.

Once the vehicle was freed, Margin almost lost her balance from the force, but just about managed to catch herself. The bike was missing its rear wheel, and because of this the back half scraped angrily against the ground when it touched down on the dirt. Margin tested its stability for a moment before realising it wouldn’t stay upright on its own, and gently laid it against the ground. “ **Cool. Too bad it’s missing a wheel and probably doesn’t work, since someone threw it out**.”

“ **Maybe the wheel is around here somewhere**.” Miles looked back at the pile again, pulling a slight face as he realised just how much there would be to look through to find it – and it might not even be here in the first place.

Then he spotted something jutting out the top of the pile, saw what it was attached to, and his jaw dropped.

“ ** _Whoa…!!_** ”

He knew what that was now; that was a _helicopter_. Just like the one Pearl had showed up in, except this one was a lot smaller, and one hundred percent less in the air. It also more than likely didn’t work, and it was really far up the pile and difficult to get to, but it looked _so cool_ and he just wanted to go up there and strip it into pieces so he could find out what made it fly.

“ **Cool. Another… thing**.” Margin acknowledged his new topic of attention for nary a few seconds as she fought to get a slightly-beat-up hatch on the side of the bike to open. It eventually popped up with a rusty scraping sound. “ **Well, there’s definitely an engine, but I have no idea if it’s in one piece. You think Marina would let me see what the inside of her bike looks like?** ”

“ **You? No**.” Miles shook his head. “ **Me? Definitely not**.” Marina had already caught him staring at her motorbike before they left for the city yesterday, recognising (or relating to) the look in his eyes and telling him that no, he could _not_ touch her bike, because she really needed to have that thing in one piece, ‘as talented as he was’. Apparently she did not trust his ability to rebuild things as much as he did. “ **I don’t think it’ll work without something to power it, anyway**.”

Margin closed the hatch again with a small sigh. “ **Maybe she knows where to find out, at least. And no, this does not mean I like her, it just means she is a useful source of information.** ”

“ **I didn’t say anything.** ” _He_ liked Marina. She was sweet and genuinely seemed like she was doing her best to help them, and she was the reason they were up here on the surface now. Without her interjection, they’d all be waiting in the stuffy domes until Octavio eventually returned, if he even did.

He had to believe he would, though, right? Or else Miles would be a traitor to him, and he didn’t want that.

“ **Anyway** ,” Margin interjected, giving the bike a final pat before she stood back up. “ **I want to keep looking around. You can stay here if you don’t want to walk. Just… send me a message or something if you don’t remember how to get back**.”

“ **Oh, okay**.” Miles was never sure if he was sad or relieved when Margin decided to go off and do things without him. Today had been a good day so far, but… he did want to look around and see what else he could find here, and maybe if there was an easier way up to that helicopter. Plus, walking… “ **I think I can find my way. It was a simple path.** ”

“ **Alright. See ya.** ” Margin turned to leave, the longer strands of her hair twitching as if she had something on her mind. “ **I’ll let you know if I find anything interesting, I guess.** ”

* * *

Margin had only been half truthful; she _was_ looking around, but she knew exactly where she was heading to at the end of her exploration.

Cephalon HQ was their most recently compromised base of operations, and the only place Margin knew where the access point to the underground city actually was. She knew there was another one somewhere in the crevice of Octo Valley, which was much closer to Mount Nantai, but she didn’t know where exactly and didn’t fancy hunting around for it. In fairness, she didn’t know _exactly_ where Octo Canyon was either, but she knew the general direction it was in from the day Marina had brought them up here, and that felt like the better option for now.

It took an hour of walking, then a further twenty minutes of finding the easiest way down into the canyon, to reach the door in the ceiling of the city’s dome. The pod of the inkrail was still here from Marina’s stupid mission, which was annoyingly convenient of her, because there wouldn’t have been an easy way down otherwise.

It took her a moment to get it working, but eventually the rail was active and she was speeding down into the city. There was no light, no sound other than her shoes hitting the ground as she landed and stirred up a small cloud of dust. She had to use the light from her phone just to be able to see, and decided not to think too much about the fact that this thing was _actually_ useful.

“ **Hello**?” She called, but there was no sound – not a voice, not even the music that had always pulsated around like a heartbeat. Without it, the place felt… dead.

As she headed for the base, she tried calling out a few more times, but there was never any response or sign of life. Marina really must have taken everyone.

Margin knew what she would find when she reached the base, but she couldn’t help the twinge of disappointment. There was nobody, at all, no guards or scientists or soldiers. She checked every building, even went nearer to the wreckage of the ship than she’d dared since it fell last year – not long after she’d been _in_ it, she was lucky she’d been splatted and sent back to the spawn within the base.

Octavio’s throne room, where missions were reported, was little more than an empty room with a large chair and a few screens, but it looked more empty than usual without their leader in his rightful place. Margin knew it had only been about five days, and that was nothing compared to the many months Octavio had already been gone for, but… she hoped he might realise what had happened, somehow, and return to deal with the problem. He did not.

That was fine. He would return, eventually. Margin had hope, even if some of the others did not. She turned to the last page of her notebook and scribbled out a short note, then tore out the page and placed it gently down in the centre of the throne.

**_Your Majesty_ **

**_The octolings are on the surface for now. Marina Ida made them go with her. I will try my best to protect our people from anything she or the inklings can do._ **

**_We await your safe return and remain loyal to you._ **

**_The inklings will not win this time._ **

**_Margin_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm dropping hints that Margin is a terrible person (Margin is a terrible person)


	9. Clues

“ **And you’re _sure_ this thing won’t, like, explode or anything?**”

“ **I removed everything from it, there’s nothing left that _can_ explode. It’s just a frame**.” Miles patted the giant metal beast, causing a hollow noise to reverberate through it.

“ **Well, if you say so**.” Margin peered down the slope in front of them, leading to a patch of empty ground in the corner of the junkyard. It was two days since they’d first visited this place, and Miles was already thoroughly obsessed; he’d managed to find the missing wheel of that motorbike and re-attach it, but otherwise left it for Margin to do with as she wished, because he had very much found something else he wanted to focus on for now, and that was this old rusty helicopter.

Miles could get a lot done in a single day when he was really focussed on it. In the valley between the trash piles behind them, just about every remaining part of the helicopter’s engine was neatly laid out in a way that Margin didn’t dare touch, because knowing Miles it was in some kind of order that only he understood. The blades framed the collection, removed so they wouldn’t get damaged as they attempted to move the rest of the thing to somewhere more accessible than the top of a mountain of garbage. Miles had managed to lay out a trail of old table tops down the slope in the hopes that it would slide down without rolling and getting damaged – or at least, more than it was already – but he wasn’t strong enough to push it from the top on his own, so he’d asked Margin for help.

If her only use for now was removing things from trash piles, that was still better than nothing. Besides, maybe this stuff would help them someday. Perhaps Miles could work out how to make something like this, and he could pass that information on to Octavio, and the octarians could have their own army of these _helicopter_ things. The inklings wouldn’t be able to mess with them then, surely.

But first, Miles would need to be able to mess around with this thing, and for that it needed to be on the ground. “ **Alright. I don’t know if I can move this thing, but here goes nothing, I guess.”**

She took a moment to line herself up with the table slide, finding her footing on the uneven surface, and placed her hands on the least-rusty part of the helicopter’s side. Miles, with enough room to actually help this time, found some space next to her and did the same.

“ **On three,** ” Margin stated, ignoring the bad taste just saying that number put in her mouth. “ **One, two, _three_ …!**”

She pushed with all her might, and she was sure Miles did too even if his was significantly less. At first she thought the thing wasn’t budging, but then it _did_ budge ever so slightly. Something in the metal groaned as the frame tilted slowly down towards the slope, and then gravity pulled its balance further. As it began to slip down on its own, Margin moved back before she could fall with it, and tugged on the back of Miles’ shirt to warn him to do the same.

For the most part, his plan worked surprisingly well. It was also very _loud_. The helicopter slid down the slope, its landing skids scraping painfully against the old tables and drawing groves in them as it passed. It finally halted at the bottom, teetering dangerously for a moment – that thing was going to be hell to get back upright if it fell over – but it soon settled back into place with a quiet _thump_.

“ **We _did it_!**” Miles cheered, jumping in place and causing the small surface they were standing on to shudder violently.

“ **You’re _welcome_** ,” Margin gave a non-serious huff. “ **Now we have to get down from here somehow.** ”

“ **Sorry—I mean, thanks. For helping**.” Miles reined in his enthusiasm in a heartbeat, giving a small nod of appreciation. “ **I know how**.”

He carefully made his way down the pile, stepping down onto specific parts he must have used countless times in the past day while he removed the engine piece by piece since the whole thing was too heavy for him to carry. Margin followed after him, trying to make quick memory of what parts exactly he stepped on and hoping nothing would collapse beneath her. Fortunately it didn’t, and once she was safely on the ground, she checked her phone.

It was twenty minutes until the time Marina said she would get to the hotel. While on her regular visit yesterday, she’d promised to take Margin into the city today if she was ready for that, and Margin tried her best to pretend she wasn’t excited to see it for herself. Inkopolis was a place built by mostly inklings, a place octolings had been chased from and forced underground, and now they were just… allowed to go there like nothing ever happened.

That was their mistake. One day they would get the punishment they deserved; if Octavio didn’t return soon, Margin would find a way herself.

But to do that, she needed to actually know what the city was like. She would play nice in the meantime, and if anything in the city was genuinely interesting, that would be a nice bonus. It wasn’t like anyone would have to _know_ she found it interesting.

“ **I better get going,** ” she announced eventually, after staring at her phone screen for so long that the minute ticked over. “ **You don’t need me for anything else, right?** ”

“ **I don’t think so. I just need to move my stuff, and I need it in the exact same order**.” Miles gave a small shake of his head, too focussed on the parts laid out in front of him to look at her. “ **I hope you enjoy the city**.”

“ **We’ll see.** ”

* * *

When Margin arrived back at the front of the hotel, Marina was just pulling into the courtyard on her bike, expertly hopping off a few seconds before the quiet growling of the engine cut out and removing something small from above the engine. _Keys. Motorbikes need keys to start._ Hopefully she could find a way around that, because even if whoever threw out the damaged bike had conveniently tossed the keys in the same place, they’d be impossible to find.

Marina removed her helmet, took one look at the younger octoling, and her eyebrows rose in surprise. “What on earth have you been up to? You’re a _mess_!”

Well, _that_ was rude. Although, as Margin glanced down at herself, she could see what had spurred the comment; her clothes were smeared with whatever filth had decided to attach itself to her when she climbed that mountain of trash at the junkyard, and a combination of pushing that helicopter frame and having a last-ditch effort to search through the motorbike’s engine for functionality had sure coated her hands in _something_. “… Exploring.”

“What were you exploring, a junkyard?” Marina spoke it as a joke, but her face suddenly grew serious with realisation. “Oh cod, there is an old yard up here. You haven’t been hanging out _there_ , have you?”

“You never said _anything_ about it,” Margin pointed out sternly. “It’s not against any of your _rules_.”

“Once again, I’m not the one who makes the rules on the surface.” Marina gave a hopeless shake of her head and sighed. “I don’t even know if it’s illegal or not, but why on earth have you been hanging out at the _junkyard_ of all places?”

“What else am I going to do, climb a tree?” Margin stared her down, defiant. She didn’t have to explain herself just because Marina reckoned herself a superior. _If it weren’t for the circumstances, you’d be taking orders from ME._

Marina did meet her glare, but she looked more confused than willing to fight. “Well, at the very least, go put on some fresh clothes and wash the grime off before we go into Inkopolis. I know you can be a little… unique, compared to the other octolings, but you’re going to get some odd looks like that.”

Margin decided not to ask what she meant by _unique_. “Fine. Whatever you say, _boss_.” It was probably better if she didn’t draw too much attention to herself.

Ten minutes, a quick shower and a fresh set of clothes later, Margin was doing her now-usual routine of skipping the entire final flight of stairs by hopping the banister. Her landing startled someone who she was alarmingly – for them – close to falling on. “ **Can you please learn how to _use stairs_** _?”_

Margin glared at them; Anten again, trying to get all up in her business. “ **Can you learn to _leave me alone?”_**

Anten regarded her with a blank look, going back to the regular impossible-to-read octoling. “ **I don’t have much control over you almost falling on me**.”

“ **Then maybe you should stay out of my way.** ” Margin didn’t give them another chance to speak, continuing on her search for Marina, carrying the notebook with her just in case she needed to make note of anything in the city.

After checking a few rooms, she finally tracked her down in the kitchen, chatting to a few of the residents as she checked the cupboards and they listed off anything they knew they were out of. Margin decided that _having food_ was a good enough reason to wait, and impatiently clicked her pen as she leaned against the doorframe.

Eventually, Marina stuffed the piece of paper she’d been scribbling a list on into one of her coat pockets, and regarded Margin with a small smile. “I take it you’re ready to go?”

“I’ve been ready for _ten_ _minutes_.”

“Well, I can already tell today is going to be an enjoyable day for me,” Marina chuckled with a strong hint of sarcasm in her words. She gave a small roll of her eyes as she covered them with a pair of sunglasses. Her shadowed gaze rested briefly on the notebook in Margin’s arms, and the younger octoling fixed her with such a fierce glare that she, smartly, decided not to comment on the fact that Margin was actually using the thing she’d given her. _It’s paper. Paper is useful. You are literally using paper right now._ “You don’t have a bag, do you? Maybe we can get you one in town.”

First piece of Inkopolis information of the day: bags existed there, and could be obtained. There were potentially other things in the city, too, but they also had a _currency_ and Margin had absolutely no money. Taking the lead out of the building just so that she didn’t have to follow behind Marina like some obedient subordinate, Margin flicked through a couple pages of her notebook to where she had also made a short list, of things she needed to make sure she found out today.

The first few were simple, but she waited until they were out the main doors of the hotel to speak to Marina again, just because she didn’t want any of the other octolings asking her things, or, well, seeing her have a civil conversation with Marina. She did not like Marina. She would never like Marina. “You have a motorbike. You know about motorbikes. What powers them?”

Marina gave her a surprised and inquisitive glance, as if this was something she had absolutely not expected Margin to bring up at all – but she had a similar look to when someone asked Miles about anything he was working on, as if she suddenly had the biggest urge to explain every fine detail. She cast a quick glance at her bike as they passed before responding. “An engine, fuel, and usually a battery. Why?”

“Okay.” Margin didn’t bother answering her question. The bike definitely had an engine, and a battery _might_ not be compulsory, so that was a start. “Where do you get fuel from?”

“Why do you want to know this?”

Margin huffed. Why was she so nosey? “I just need it. For something. If there’s some kind of classified source or something, can _you_ get me some? You clearly use it.”

“Margin.” Marina briefly lifted her shades to emphasise her stern glare, confused and slightly alarmed. “I can think of at least five reasons why giving you a can of gasoline would be a terrible idea. What on earth do you want it for?”

“If I _tell_ you, will you get it for me?”

“I am making absolutely no promises on this.”

“Okay, _fine_. You made enough of those already.” Margin scoffed. “I found an old motorbike at the junkyard. It has an engine and stuff but it won’t turn on, so I wanna see if I can make it work.”

“I see.” Marina’s expression gave nothing away. “Why?”

“Why _what_?”

“Well, what do you intend to do with it if you _can_ get it working?”

“Um, _ride_ it? What _else_ do you do with a motorbike?” Margin held out her free hand in an overemphasising shrug, to further point out how stupid of a question that had been.

Marina was silent for a moment. “… How old are you again?”

“Fifteen.”

“You’re not even old enough to drive.”

“There’s an _old_ _enough_?”

“Margin, we had traffic laws _in the domes_ , unless things really fell apart since I left.” Marina shook her head in disbelief. “There just weren’t many people with actual vehicles.”

“Every time I try to do _anything_ ,” Margin tutted, crossing her arms across the notebook and putting on a very un-Marina-like Marina voice. “No, Margin, don’t do that. You _can’t_ do this, Margin. No, Margin, that’s against the _inkling laws_ that even _I_ apparently don’t know all of.”

Marina gave a small snort of laughter, but it was quickly followed up by a sigh. “You’re absolutely impossible, you know that?”

“If I knew what that was supposed to mean, maybe I would. But as it stands, no.”

“Honestly.” Marina rolled her eyes yet again, pausing briefly on their walk when they reached the point where the hotel’s yard connected to the road-like path in front of it, and looked back at the building for a moment. “… You know, most of the area out here is quiet, and some of it is _technically_ privately owned… maybe it would be okay for you to ride it out here, as long as you don’t go anywhere near the city on it and you’re _extremely_ careful not to hurt anyone. And you wear a helmet.”

“Really?” Margin halted, staring at her in shock. She hadn’t expected to win that one quite so easily. Her eyes narrowed. “This is a trick, isn’t it.”

“No trick, unless you count the hope you might settle in more if you actually have something to do.” Marina gave a friendly smile. _Ah. So you_ do _want me out of the way._ “I don’t have enough free time to help you get it running, but I can show you where the library is. _However_ ,” she added in a serious tone, “you don’t even _attempt_ to drive that thing until I’ve checked it over. I at least want to make sure you’re not doing something unsafe.”

Margin stared at her for a long moment, weighing up her options. She supposed it was true, logically, that having someone who knew a lot about the subject check the thing first was a good safety precaution. She still didn’t trust Marina, at all, not one bit, but at the very least she did seem like she wasn’t going to cause Margin any harm, or worse. “Alright,” she nodded eventually. “Deal.”

* * *

Faye had been wary about how her day might go when she once again awoke to a text from Marina; except this was the complete opposite of last time, suggesting she stay _away_ from the city today because Marina was personally taking Margin to Inkopolis. It was a good thing Faye had absolutely no plans to do anything today other than sleep, and she wished Marina luck because she was absolutely certain that she would need it.

Any day spent as far away from that angry octoling as possible was definitely a good day.

She received another message, suspiciously close to the first one to the point where Faye wondered if it was planned, from Eight, taking her up on the offer for a day of meaningless board games. Or at least, that was the basic gist of the message; Eight very much texted like an old person picking up a phone for the first time.

Eight’s arrival brought upon ten minutes of rifling through an old cupboard with far more cobwebs than Faye was comfortable with existing in her current place of residence, trying to find something that was simple enough that it wouldn’t take the whole afternoon just deciphering all the rules. In typical Captain fashion, most of the games in here looked like they’d survived a few centuries already. One of the first ones Faye recognised was Cluedo, and pulled it out briefly to see if she could recall the rules, but it was… perhaps a little too complicated for her liking, and best suited for more than two people. There was still evidence of past games in the notebooks, though, one of them written with scruffy handwriting in an _extremely_ pink gel pen, which must have been Callie’s doing, many years ago.

“Eels and ladders,” she resorted to eventually, taking a rather dusty box from near the bottom of the pile. “I haven’t played this since I was, like, five. It should be easy enough.”

It took a whole of ten seconds to explain the rules to Eight, who eagerly set up the board on the table and sat at the chair she’d always claimed as her own, the one with a slightly uneven leg that sometimes rocked from side to side, as if she’d never left. She played with the focus of someone using all of their skills, even though the outcome was determined entirely on dice rolls and nothing else, and Faye actually felt a little guilty when she ended up getting to the finish line first.

“Best of three?” she offered with a half-hearted shrug, trying to keep the amusement out of her voice. “Or we could try one of the other games, if they don’t fall apart on us.”

“Hmm…” Eight gave the board in front of her a critical look, deciding whether she trusted it to not betray her again. “A different game, please.”

Faye couldn’t help the single laugh that escaped her. “Alright. You put this away; I think I saw a box of dominoes somewhere. No dice involved.”

“Good. I do not like the dice.”

Searching for the box she’d caught a glimpse of earlier got Faye far too acquainted with the cobwebs as one latched itself onto her hand, and she drew back so quickly she accidentally whacked her arm on the cupboard door. The loud noise spooked Eight, judging from the small sound she let out, but she got over it quickly, fitting the board and pieces back into their box. When she was done, she silently stared at the cover art for a moment. “… Three? May I ask you about something?”

“Sure. Go ahead.” The way she phrased it gave Faye a small twinge of anxiety, because Eight didn’t usually ask for _permission_ to ask questions. Either she really had changed in the last month or so, or it was something serious. It didn’t help that when Faye finally did manage to pluck the box of dominoes from the cupboard, it had the husk of whatever spider had created all this mess attached to it. _Ugh. Gross._ She scraped it off against the side of the cupboard with a grimace, vowing to never open this door again after today. The captain could deal with this instead, whenever he decided he wanted his cabin back.

“Well…” Eight pushed the box a few centimetres across the table, something that was completely pointless but filled the empty space as she determined how to phrase her question. “Was… it true? About Margin? Did you… do that?”

It took Faye a moment to work out what exactly Eight was talking about; she’d tried to wipe the confrontation from last week out of her memory, which apparently she’d also done for the thing the confrontation was _about_. Faye sighed, gently placing the pack of dominoes on the table and sinking back down into her chair. “I don’t know. I don’t _remember_ doing anything like that. As far as I know, the closest I went to the base three years ago was Octavio’s ship when I fought him.”

“Oh…” Eight continued to stare at the contents of the table, pressing her thumbs together. “I… think I have a memory from back then. Of you.”

“You do?” Faye’s gaze snapped to her in an instant, filled with sudden dread. As far as she’d known, Eight didn’t remember anything from before the metro, but if she _had_ remembered something and it aligned…

“We were fighting. I think.” Eight gave her a nervous look. “It’s fuzzy, but… I remember it.”

_Fighting._ Faye tried to think back, to if she had any memory of fighting Eight – but there were a lot of octolings she’d fought against in the past, and Eight could’ve be any one of them. “Was it just before the metro? I know we fought then, before… whatever took us there, but I know that was you.”

Eight shook her head. “I know it was many years ago. It’s one of the few things I remember.”

“Do you know where it was?” Even if Faye couldn’t remember Eight, surely she’d remember the surrounding area, right?

“Um…” Eight’s brow creased as she tried to concentrate, attempting to dig up lost memories. Faye didn’t know much about amnesia, if everything she knew was lost for good or if it could be recalled. “It was… a place surrounded by clear walls?”

Faye wracked her brain for any recollection of a place like this in the octarian domes, but it didn’t sound familiar at all. Maybe she really had lost all memory of that time, somehow – and that was a terrifying thought, because what _else_ didn’t she remember? Was this all just because of that AI controlling her? “I don’t know. I don’t remember that. Or… whatever else I’m supposed to have done.” She ran her hands over her hair, feeling her fingers brush against the scar just above her right ear, where she’d been cut open by the shards of the broken blender – and where that goop had _gone into her_ , and she shuddered.

“Maybe you did not? Maybe—it could have been a dream, or something,” Eight said hastily, as if she’d picked up on Faye’s unease. “I don’t know how memories work.” She hopped up from her seat, taking the packed-away game of eels and ladders and carrying it back to the messy pile. “We should play the… domners?”

“Dominoes. Yeah.” Faye tried to push it away, to not get bothered by this, because doing so would only upset Eight. But it _did_ bother her, and she didn’t like knowing that she could’ve done _anything_ awful that she couldn’t remember. Thoughts of fighting with Eight and leaving her beaten and bruised and bleeding her life out wormed their way through her brain, and she couldn’t tell if it was her imagination running wild or a repressed memory. Eight hadn’t mentioned being seriously injured at all, so she assumed it was the former, mostly for her own sanity.

* * *

Inkopolis was a lot louder than Margin had expected it to be.

She could pick up the hum of the city from half way down the mountain, but actually being in it was a whole other experience. The city in the domes had always had an echo of music from the radio tower, but everywhere held the same music; here, a different tune played on every corner, and they all sounded so _upbeat_. Marina hummed along to a few of the tunes as they passed ones she recognised, and Margin adamantly tried to block them out, determined to not get as brainwashed as everyone else up here.

The first place Marina showed her was the library, which wasn’t that far into the city and away from the loudest area. “There isn’t enough time to look through every book about motorbikes today, but I can help you find where they are,” she’d said, keeping her voice hushed in the building that was surprisingly quiet compared to everywhere else.

Margin got the chance to quickly flip through a whole of one book while they were here, and unsurprisingly it was written in an inkling language – no problem for her, but if Miles wanted to try and use this place as a resource, he might have some issues, and she didn’t want to spend all her time translating for him – but there were quite a few different diagrams. That was helpful.

The next building Marina took her into was half the size of the octarian base. It was full of smaller stores, and she called it the ‘mall’. There was far too much for Margin to take in before she was guided into one of the clothing stores and to a specific part of it which had bags, and then Marina expected her to choose one of them, which felt highly unnecessary when they were mostly the exact same thing but different colours. Something about expressing herself, choosing which colour she liked best. Purple, obviously.

Bag obtained. It wasn’t as obnoxiously massive as some of the ones in the store, but it was a backpack that was big enough to fit something A4 in, and that was what mattered.

“Do you want to sign up for turf war?” Marina asked once they finally left the crowded building and escaped back into the fresh air. “If you don’t, that’s understandable, given what you’ve been through.”

“I have no problem with fights,” Margin responded sternly, glaring at Marina in such a way that she wouldn’t dare to pity her. “You didn’t even believe me.”

“I _do_ believe you, I just… think it’s complicated, and that Faye wouldn’t do anything like that now,” Marina said evenly. _Of course you would think that. Everyone up here is so infatuated with Agent 3, they can’t see her for the cold-hearted killer she really is._ “It’s up to you, but it’ll probably be easier for you to get signed up if you do it today, when I can help you.”

Margin scowled. She wasn’t sure she wanted to take part in a sport the inklings had made and then named after the very thing that had forced her and all of her people to live underground, but at the same time… it would help her learn how the inklings fought, and it’d stop her from getting rusty. It was like training, except with enough electricity to actually power the respawn pads. “Sure. Why not.”

“Alright,” Marina responded with a small smile. “Even once you’re signed up, it’s up to you how much you want to participate.”

Therefore, the next location on their city tour was the most horrifically crowded area of town; Inkopolis Square, and their actual destination, Deca Tower. Margin couldn’t help but glance up as they stood outside, watching the Great Zapfish as it coiled peacefully around the tower, a stark difference to how much it had wriggled and thrashed when it was in their care.

The process of signing up didn’t take too long, just doing a quick once-over of the regulations and choosing a display name; it was using the vouchers she was given for being a new player that were the most time-consuming, as Marina guided her through four different shops to pick up some tacky-looking gear and a weapon that looked far weaker than the octoshot Margin had left behind in the domes. Even if there hadn’t been some kind of city-wide rule about not having weapons out in public, this thing didn’t look like it was capable of hurting anyone in the first place.

“I need to get back to the studio soon,” Marina said eventually, after checking the time on her phone. “I can guide you back to the bridge first, at least – or I can get us a car if you’re tired.”

“I’m not tired.” That was a slight lie; after exploring the mountain, walking to Octo Canyon and back, and now walking around the city all afternoon, Margin’s legs were starting to ache. She also wasn’t used to moving around so much, but her pride wouldn’t let her admit that. If she could still walk, she would. She was Octavio’s top soldier, and she wasn’t going to let that change. “I can find my own way if you’re— what are _they_!?”

Her entire train of thought derailed as she saw a whole bunch of small creatures, of varying colour, trailing along behind an inkling in the distance. They didn’t look like the other species in the city, crabs and fish and jellies and whatever else; more like some kind of malformed tiny inklings that hadn’t properly developed their hands.

“What?” Marina seemed confused by her outburst. She looked around, trying to find anything out of the ordinary. “What are you looking at?”

“Do you not see them?” Margin emphasised her point by motioning towards them. “Those… little slimy people. Are they _supposed_ to look like that?”

“The… children?” The look Marina gave her was the most confused Margin had seen her all day. “They look like they’re from the elementary school, so… yes? They must be doing a field trip or something. They’re just baby inklings.”

“You’re telling me young inklings look like _that_?”

“Yes? It’s not like they’re different from young octolings. We were ‘little slimy people’ once too.”

Margin watched as the line of obedient children disappeared from her line of sight and went on with their merry adventure, and grimaced. “I think I would remember if I’d looked that disgusting. I’ve always been like this.”

“But you can’t have been. You told me yourself, you were developed from one of Octavio’s limbs.” Marina lowered her voice, as if she didn’t want anyone nearby to overhear that last part. “And… you would have seen other octoling children, wouldn’t you?”

“There aren’t any others,” Margin shrugged. She didn’t understand what was so unbelievable about this. “As far as I know, Miles was one of the youngest octolings, along with any from his batch that survived, and _he_ doesn’t look like that.”

“He _did_ , though. Didn’t he lose his eye because he didn’t have a full grip on transforming? That only happens when you’re new to a full octoling body.”

“I _definitely_ would’ve remembered Miles being an ugly goopy mess.”

Marina pulled a face of scepticism. It transformed to one of thought, in the way that Marina always seemed to blurt out her current feelings just with her expression. “Margin… what’s your earliest memory?”

Well, that was a stupid question. It was extra stupid because Margin didn’t actually know the answer herself, and she needed to think back and try and work out what it _was_. She concentrated for a moment, trying to work out if she could remember anything before… “Agent 3.” That was it. She couldn’t remember anything before that.

“Hmm…” Marina gave one of her annoying thoughtful looks, like she was trying to figure out everything about someone just by looking at them. “Maybe it’s just—never mind. Don’t worry about it. I guess that’s another thing you’ve learned today, huh? Inkling development.”

That wasn’t something she particularly _wanted_ to learn, but Margin supposed it might at least be useful information. “Sure. Whatever.”

Marina still held that concerned-and-thinking look as they walked back across the city, but whatever was on her mind, she didn’t mention it at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marina gives Margin permission to commit crimes. On a scale of 1 to 10 how much will she regret this decision later


	10. Setbacks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings for this chapter: cold/flu-like illness (this chapter was written last year and I'd appreciate if people didn't make jokes/comments about the current pandemic)

Faye had wondered how long her luck would hold out, living in an old shack with no heating throughout the winter, and the answer to that question was nowhere near as long as she’d hoped (i.e. forever). She had no idea who she’d caught this cold from, no doubt just someone she’d passed in the supermarket last time she went out to get more bread, and when she woke up with a sore throat she _hoped_ it was just a small temporary thing, but no, it was a full entire cold for her. Absolutely _wonderful_.

She tried her best to sleep it off, but she still needed to eat, and even though two days didn’t show her much improvement, she got sick of her diet of toast and decided she actually needed to obtain some other source of nutrients before her throat combusted from too many crumbs. With the hope it would be enough to hide how much she looked like death, Faye equipped her trusty hat and ventured out into the city, wincing as the cold wind grated her throat.

In the interests of not spreading whatever sickness she currently had around, Faye steered clear of everyone she saw out in the city, opting to travel just a little further to one of the less-crowded supermarkets away from the centre of town. That did mean her options for food were a little more limited, and she ended up settling for a bunch of bananas and some orange juice. Not exactly a gourmet meal, but healthy-feeling enough that hopefully the placebo effect might kick in.

With her energy drained by the walk when she could only half-breathe in the first place, which was also making her headaches more aggressive than usual, Faye finally gave in half way back and collapsed onto a bench to rest for a short while. She really hoped her coughing and sniffling wouldn’t attract too much attention, but alas, nothing could ever go the way she wanted.

“Hey… you alright?”

Faye’s first instinct was to glare at the person addressing her, because _no I’m not alright can you not tell also that’s not going to change from you initiating a friendly conversation_ , but her hostile expression faded quickly as she recognised the green and white. “Mari—” her voice crackled alarmingly as she used it for the first time in days, and it immediately set her into a fit of coughing which she just about managed to aim into the crook of her arm.

“Ooh, okay, I’ll… take that as a no.” It was even harder than usual to read her expression with the facemask blocking half of it, but there was a sympathetic look in Marie’s eyes that would’ve been aggravatingly patronising had she been anyone else. Her incognito outfit was a little different than usual, with a woollen hat and thick coat to fight the early-year chill. “A cold, huh?” With a slight hesitation, she took a seat next to her, leaving a generous amount of space between them.

“Something—something like that,” Faye managed to wheeze out between coughs as she got them under control. Of course it had to be Marie of all people who saw her as a sickly mess. She instinctively sidled a little further away. “You probably shouldn’t get too close; you’ll catch it.”

Marie shrugged and pointed to her face. “Mask.” She went back to fidgeting with the shoulder bag she had next to her on the bench; it didn’t look like it contained anything from the outside, so perhaps Faye had accidentally stumbled into the part of town where Marie did her own grocery run. “… Are you gonna be okay? Gramps’ old shack doesn’t have heating.”

“I am aware.” Hopefully wherever the captain was now actually had some kind of warmth; perhaps that was why he seemed to spend all his time down in the metro nowadays. The trains were heated and there was no chilling wind in the winter. Faye sniffed, feeling the cold air sting painfully against her throat and hating how stuffy her voice sounded when she spoke. “I’ll be fine.”

She could feel Marie’s unsure gaze boring into her. “You need anything? Like… I don’t know, some water, or decongestants, or—”

“No,” Faye said hastily – too hastily, to the point where Marie seemed a little startled by her outburst. “No, I— I don’t need anything. I can’t swallow tablets anyway, it’s fine.” That left such a gaping obvious rebuttal, that they came in multiple different forms, and she didn’t want to hear it. “Thanks anyway,” she added, fidgeting with her sleeve for a second before deciding it was time to make an escape. “I gotta… get back. Rest, I guess. See ya.” She forced herself up from the bench, feeling the ache in every muscle of her body, and snatched her thin-looking bag from the ground.

“Oh—okay,” Marie’s voice sounded off in a way Faye couldn’t quite place from the sudden departure. “I hope you feel better soon.”

Faye knew Marie was watching her as she left, and she couldn’t help the feeling that she’d messed up somehow. Again. She cast a glance back, giving what she hoped was an apologetic look, because it was supposed to be; Marie met her gaze, but Faye couldn’t hold it long enough to see her reaction, and hurried away before she could ruin anything else.

* * *

A week of research and tinkering had Margin pretty certain that the motorbike might, in fact, start up, if it actually had something to power it. She’d even shown Miles a photo she’d taken of some of the diagrams from the library, and _he_ seemed convinced it would work too, and he was basically a genius when it came to mechanical things. All she needed now was for Marina to actually keep up her end of the deal, which was taking _forever_ because apparently she was just _busy_ all the time. Even when she did come up to the hotel, she didn’t have enough time to go to the junkyard with Margin to check the bike. “Maybe at the weekend?” she’d suggested, and _ugghhhh that was so many days away_.

With nothing else to stifle her irritability, Margin had finally given in and tried turf war. Her inexperience with the sport matched her with low-level players, but most of them were _far_ below her skill level, giving her multiple wins and rocketing her through the levels until she was finally put up against some opponents who were at least _slightly_ more challenging. This Splattershot Jr was starting to bore her, though, because it was so much about _spreading ink_ and not about _splatting_. That was the best part about turf war; splatting inklings. It was therapeutic, really. She got to shoot inklings in the face and there was absolutely no consequence for it because they weren’t actually injured by it.

Miles had tried turf war, too, but to nobody’s surprise he was really bad at it. His physical training had halted as soon as he was injured, and he could barely aim. A little overwhelmed, he’d given up on it rather quickly, but Margin dragged him along to Ammo Knights today with her anyway, because he wanted her to show him where the library was in town. She had the feeling there would be no getting him away from that place if they went there first.

“ **There’s _so_ _many_ weapon types**,” Miles said in a hushed voice, as he gazed around the store in a way that was both amazed and longing. Almost everything in here was locked behind a level, and there wasn’t much Miles could access with his measly 2.

Margin led the way around, looking at everything she could find and trying to decide if there was anything she actually _wanted_. She hadn’t really perused the gear shops much either, the only turf gear she had still being the stuff she’d been given for free when she signed up (which… really needed a wash by now), and everything _cost money_. She had a decent amount by now, after almost a week of matches, but there were so many _other_ things money could be used for as well… currencies were so complicated. It was so much easier when all you had to do was do your job, and nothing other than the basic necessities existed.

She’d been contemplating the splattershot – very similar to the octoshot, which was what she was used to, except this one was a much less deadly one because it was made for sports – when Miles nudged her arm, and she realised for the first time that he’d actually been separated from her for a while.

“ **I think the little crab man is trying to ask me things** ,” he told her quietly. “ **He says so many complicated words, I don’t know what he wants.”**

**“Who?”** Margin looked around to see the ‘little crab man’ following after her friend, giving the both of them a friendly wave. She narrowed her eyes at him; he’d been with the Squidbeak Splatoon on the day they took everyone, and the only time she’d seen him since was when Marina had brought her here to pick up her first weapon. “What do you want from us, crab man?”

“I’m just checking if you need any assistance!” he said with a smile that might have been forced. “The shop is quiet today. Are you looking for anything in particular? _You_ can understand my language, correct? I might need to find someone who can translate otherwise.”

_I’m starting to wish I couldn’t understand you._ “Unfortunately. I’m looking at the splattershot, I guess? I don’t know what Miles is doing. Or if he can do anything. He’s only, like, level 2.”

“Hmm… well, that _does_ give you access to the splattershot!” the crab – he had a badge that said his name was Sheldon – looked back to Miles again, who was struggling to keep up with how fast he spoke. “It has less ink coverage and a lower fire rate than the junior, but it has a higher range and has much less shot deviation, making it easier to splat your foes, and—”

“Even _I_ can’t understand you if you talk like that,” Margin interrupted, partially because Miles looked more and more lost with every word but mostly just because she wanted him to shut up. “ **It’s basically an octoshot** ,” she explained to her friend.

“ **Oh**.” Miles seemed to deflate a little. “ **I won’t be able to use that either**.”

“He can’t use a shooter,” Margin translated for the annoying crab who seemed determined to help them.

“Hmm, I see.” Sheldon nodded thoughtfully, looking at Miles’ missing eye. “I do believe I know a good alternative; if you gain another level, I’ll be able to sell you a splat roller!” He scurried a few metres down the aisle, pointing to the weapon he’d named on the display.

“A… splat roller?” Miles echoed. It was difficult to tell if he sounded unsure because of the weapon type, or because of the words he was trying to say. “Like… Agent 4?”

“ **Why would you want to be like Agent 4?** ” Margin asked with a sceptical look. Agent 4 was one of the main inklings who had been ruining their plans. He definitely wasn’t as bad as _some_ other agents she could mention, but…

“ **I don’t—he just— he’s blind in one eye too, and he can use a roller** ,” Miles said hastily, not meeting her gaze and instead following after Sheldon to check out the weapon.

“ **He is, huh**?” Margin made the decision to ignore Miles’ potential likening for the inklings, for now, because he _was_ her best friend and she had to trust him not to be a traitor. Instead, she made a mental note for later to write down that potentially useful information he had on the agent. _It must he his right eye, or he wouldn’t be able to see at all. A blind side on your enemies is always useful._

“There’s this too, but it’s not available until you reach level 10, and slightly later for the other sets.” Sheldon pointed to another weapon; this one looked like a giant paintbrush with a fancy-looking handle. “This is the octobrush! It takes a few swings to splat people, but it can spread a lot of ink! There’s also the lighter inkbrush if you prefer speed to combat capability.”

The _octo_ brush. Margin felt drawn to it at first, just from the name alone, but slapping someone repeatedly with a brush didn’t sound like much fun to her; shooters were definitely more her thing. She could see Miles’ interest in it, though, as he took in the parts of Sheldon’s ramble that he could understand.

When they finally left the store, Margin was armed with a new weapon (in a case) to try; the kensa splattershot. It was a little pricier than the other variants, but she didn’t want to use burst bombs or inkjet, and tenta missiles sounded _exciting_. Perhaps she could go and try it out while Miles got absorbed into a library book.

They were approaching the less crowded part of town, where the library was, when Margin caught sight of a disgusting yellow colour that immediately sent her into the fight or flight response. She froze, staring across the street.

_Agent 3._

A bus passed between them, and for a moment she thought she’d imagined it, but no; that was Agent 3, walking with her hands in her pockets and a light plastic bag hanging from one arm.

A million thoughts darted through Margin’s brain at once.

_That’s Agent 3. Out in the open._

_What if she’s following us?_

_She’s not. She’s going the other way and I don’t think she’s even seen us yet, unless she’s just pretending to catch us off-guard._

_That bag is too small to have a weapon in it. She’s unarmed._

_I have a weapon on me right now. She doesn’t._

_Everything she’s done – I could get my revenge right now._

_Weapons aren’t allowed in the city, though._

One of Marina’s _rules that technically weren’t her rules_ made Margin hesitate, and she _hated hated HATED that so much_ because here was her chance, right now, she could kill Agent 3 and all her troubles would be over except maybe they actually wouldn’t, and ugh why couldn’t she just _do_ _something_ about it already it had been so _easy_ before down in the domes—

“Margin.” Miles snapped her out of her momentary daze by pulling on her sleeve. The anxious look in his eyes showed that he must have noticed Agent 3, too. “The… um… **the library**?”

Margin tried her best not to glare at him. He was her friend, and it wasn’t that he wanted to hold her back, it was just… that he was worried about what Agent 3 might to do her if she attacked, even if the agent was unarmed, or what repercussions Margin might get for murdering someone in the middle of town. That was a good point, too. Agent 3 wasn’t the only one with the power to make her life miserable. Margin let out a small sigh, redirecting her glare to Agent 3 instead.

The inkling finally looked around, her tired gaze locking with Margin’s for a mere half-second before she recognised her and hurriedly looked away.

Margin continued to watch her until another large noisy vehicle blocked Agent 3 from view, and by the time it had passed, she was gone. _Coward._

“Margin…?”

“… **Right**.” With nothing but strangers and the cars left to glare at, Margin finally shook her head, not giving Miles so much as a glance before continuing onward. “ **The library. That’s where we’re going**.” He said nothing in response, continuing to follow her lead.

Margin couldn’t fight Agent 3 in the middle of the city. Not where other inklings were around. Someday she would be able to get her revenge; that day just wasn’t today.

* * *

Faye normally didn’t care about walking through the more secluded parts of town on her own; if some random guy decided he wanted to mug her, or whatever, she was pretty confident that she would be able to fight him off. Anyone desperate enough to attack someone in the street for money was more than likely to have no combat training, and Faye had taken numerous self-defence classes in her school years – not to mention, fought off an entire army.

Margin was not some broke degenerate who would underestimate her. She was a well-trained soldier, and she was _strong_ , not to mention incredibly vengeful. She was a very good reason for Faye to look over her shoulder every time she was about to turn a corner.

After making _absolutely_ sure there were no angry octoling children following her, Faye opened the sewer-like grate in the back alleys of Inkopolis Square, having to unlatch it to get through because she couldn’t absorb a plastic bag of groceries into her squid form. When she was finally back at the old cabin, she used the last of her strength to put the orange juice in the empty-looking fridge before she finally collapsed onto her bed again. Eating food could wait for later. Sleep time. If she could stop coughing long enough to actually fall asleep…

Her phone making a noise was what reminded her it was still in the pocket of her jeans, at risk of gaining even more cracks if she left it in there while taking a nap, and she pulled it out with a sigh. _This better not be Marina wanting me to do something else. Maybe Eight wants to hang out again, but I’d rather not give her a virus._

[14:22] do you have a preferred soup flavour. asking for a friend

Okay, well, that was a very cryptic message to get from Marie. At the same time, it wasn’t cryptic at all, because there could only be one reason why she was asking. Faye frowned.

[14:22] I already said I don’t need anything

[14:22] I know but it’ll still help

[14:22] you don’t WANT to have nasty cold symptoms do you

[14:22] actually don’t answer that bc if you say yes itll make me sad

[14:22] oh no that would be a catastrophe

[14:22] in the most friendly sarcastic way

[14:22] I don’t want nasty cold symptoms or for you to be sad

[14:22] rly tho dw about it if you try to bring me soup or something you’re gonna catch this garbage

[14:23] it’s worth the risk I think

[14:23] besides if I do catch it I get time off work so it’s not all bad right

[14:23] I’ll keep my mask on just in case

[14:23] can you answer the question tho it’s kinda awkward standing around in the store on my phone

[14:23] uhh. tomato is a soup flavour right

[14:24] yes. There’s also multiple different ones

[14:24] why is soup so complicated. Is there a basic tomato I’m a basic bitch

[14:24] yes ma’am our soup of the day is basic bitch tomato flavour

[14:24] delicious

[14:24] just get a cheap one or smth tho I can pay you back

[14:25] no shh

[14:25] I am trying to do a nice thing and bring you some soup

[14:25] let me ruin my sassy bastard reputation in peace

[14:26] hey everyone marie squid sister did something sweet! persona ruined

[14:26] ikr? How could I do this

[14:26] give me like 25 mins I gotta take my groceries home first. Then soup delivery

[14:27] alright thanks

[14:27] sorry if I fall asleep before you get here

[14:27] also you’re like the best ever I hope you’re aware

Faye was absolutely no expert on responding to friends with the appropriate amount of mushiness, so hopefully that would suffice. She waited for a brief moment to see if there was any reply – just a simple ‘<3’ – before dropping her phone onto the mattress and closing her eyes, willing her body to fall sleep and wishing she could take a nap in the store she’d been in earlier where it was actually _warm_.

Sleep must have hit her at some point, because it didn’t feel like much time had passed before she was woken by the sound of the grate outside. Hit by a sudden warm feeling that she couldn’t distinguish between an emotion or a symptom of her cold, Faye dragged herself out of bed again to go and open the door, even though it wasn’t exactly locked in the first place. Manners were important, right?

She did kind of wish she’d thought to put her hat back on first, to mask her exhaustion just a little, but at least her fringe still _sort_ _of_ did that. Not a whole lot, though. “Hey.” Her voice sort of… broke off half way through the word, but she _tried_.

Marie, keeping her word, still had her facemask on, but Faye could tell from the slight crease of her eyes that she smiled. “Hey.” Her hands were wrapped around the strap of her shoulder bag, which pulled against her in a way that suggested it had some weight in it. “It’s, uh… soup delivery?”

“Did you get every soup in the store or something?” The sarcastic question was accompanied by a small fit of coughing as Faye stepped aside to let her into the building, fighting back a groan as her throat burned.

“Pfft, no. Only, like, two.” Once she was inside, Marie gazed around the cabin. “I haven’t been inside this place in _years_.”

“Sorry if it’s more of a mess now,” Faye joked lightly, plodding over to collapse on one of the chairs at the small dining table since that was the only place to sit other than the bed, and she hadn’t made any attempt to make it after sleeping.

“Oh, trust me, this place looks completely spotless compared to the mess Callie’s made of Cuttlefish Cabin,” Marie said with a small laugh. She followed and carefully placed her bag on the table, as if she suspected it might collapse under the weight. “How are you doing? You look exhausted.”

“I feel it,” Faye sighed. She ran a hand over the top of her hair, applying some pressure in the hopes it might alleviate her headache. “It’s fine. Everythin’ just kinda hurts.”

“Hmm…” Marie grimaced, opening her bag and looking at its contents. “That’s… usually a sign of flu.”

“Oh. Hooray for me.”

“You should be alright if you rest and stay hydrated. Which, by the way, I brought some water.” Marie placed a decently-sized bottle on the table, which was probably what most of the weight in her bag had been. “I don’t know if you needed it, but… I can’t imagine the tap water out here is too clean.”

“Yeah, the captain left me with a water filter for good reason,” Faye said with a dry laugh that quickly manifested into a cough. “Thanks.”

“Also, the soup I promised.” Two cans, in very slightly different colours but both a tomato red. She fished for something else. “And… paracetamol usually helps. You don’t swallow these ones; you just dissolve them in water.”

Faye instinctively drew back from the innocent-looking box Marie placed on the table. “Oh. Uh. Thanks.”

Annoyingly, Marie noticed her reaction, instead of getting distracted by whatever else might be in her bag. “You okay?” she asked softly.

“Yeah,” Faye responded in a way she knew didn’t sound convincing as she fought to get her voice back under control, and ended up coughing. “Paracetamol is like… safe, right?”

“As long as you don’t take much more than the instructions suggest, yeah.” Marie’s gaze fell back to the bag, much to Faye’s relief. “I won’t pry, but… I can take them away if you’re worried about, like… y’know…”

“Nah—no, I’m not at risk of anything like that, don’t worry,” Faye hurriedly shook her head. “Just—bad experience with someone I know, I guess.”

“Ah. Yeah, I getcha.” Marie nodded slowly, and Faye wondered if that was just a vote of support or something she actually understood. “Well, they’re here if you need them, but if trying to take medicine is going to do more harm than good, you don’t have to.” She continued to rummage through her bag, which still had something giving it a slightly bloated shape. “Also, uh—hopefully this isn’t, like, weird or subtly insulting or anything, but it _is_ really cold in here and this thing’s just been lying in my room for years, so—” Folded in a shape that was difficult to pull out of the bag, it looked like a blanket of some kind, patterned with dark green and blue. “It’s not heated, but… it’s pretty thick. So it’s warm? I dunno. I thought you might need it more than I do. I live in an apartment building, so even if we don’t have the heating on it doesn’t get super cold – so, uh— sorry, I’m just… rambling now, aren’t I.” Marie gave a nervous laugh, removing her bag from the table and placing the folded blanket down in the space where it had been.

Faye hadn’t been aware that she’d just been _staring_ until just now. “Oh! No, no, you’re good.” Without much conscious effort, she reached out to touch the blanket with one hand; it was softer than she expected, and it definitely felt a lot thicker than the one she’d been using. “I – that’s – why are you so _nice_.”

That pulled a heartier laugh out of Marie. “Now _that_ is something I don’t get asked often.”

“Just…” Faye looked at the contents of the table in front of her, hit by the realisation that Marie had gone out of her way just because Faye was sick. _Wow. I really don’t deserve her._ “Cod, I must have been a real sorry sight earlier if it prompted you to do all this.”

“You didn’t look _that_ bad. I just wanted to help, that’s all.” Marie gave a small shrug, picking up one of the soup cans. “You have any pans around? I can heat one of these up for you, if you want.”

“You don’t—you really don’t have to.” The words came out snappier than Faye intended, and Marie wasn’t the only one who flinched. Faye sank a little in her seat, getting the physical feeling of the walls she knew she was instinctively putting up around herself, feeling her mood plummet so suddenly and over something so small. _You don’t deserve this. You don’t need help. Bad things happen when people try to help you._

_You stupid idiot, what’s going to happen from someone_ making soup _?_

Marie was silent for a moment, but she soon gave a small sigh. “I can… I can leave you to it, if that’s better. I have work this afternoon anyway.”

_You’re messing up again._ Just now things had been so _nice_ and now this was just like back at Cephalon HQ. Yet again, Callie’s words echoed in her head, even more so because Marie was the reason she’d said those things to her in the first place. Faye took a deep breath, trying desperately to shove the negative thoughts out of her head. “… I’m sorry. This is just… different.”

“What is?”

“I don’t know…” Faye absent-mindedly fiddled with one of the short tassels on the corner of the blanket. “Like, if I say this is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me, it’d sound really sad.” She gave a hollow laugh.

“Aw.” Marie gave a wry smile behind her mask, relaxing a little now she knew Faye wasn’t upset with her. “Sorry if I was a little much. If it makes you feel any better, I’m used to dealing with someone who is an absolute nightmare when she gets sick.”

“Somehow, I can imagine that.” Faye was relieved when Marie gave a genuine laugh at that; light-hearted jokes about her cousin were fine. She managed a small smile. “Sorry I don’t really have much to offer in return.” _And for trying to push you away when you were just trying to help._ “Unless you want, like, a banana or something.”

“Oh. Nah.” Marie pulled a slight face. “Last time I ate a banana I ended up in the hospital, so I tend to not make a habit of it.”

“ _Oh_. Right. Allergies. Damn.” Faye tried to stifle her dumbfounded look as much as possible. “Okay, yeah, I’d rather not accidentally kill you.”

“Thanks. I’ll take that as a compliment.” Marie giggled, a sound which felt so foreign that Faye was momentarily stunned by it.

Faye quickly snapped out of her daze. “I won’t keep you if you need to be somewhere, but like—I dunno, I wouldn’t _complain_ if you wanted to stay a while. Feels like I don’t see you much.”

“Yeah… busy schedule. I won’t stay too long, though, because _someone_ should be resting.” Marie gave her a semi-stern glare, but it wasn’t patronisingly serious. Adjusting the bag on her shoulder so it wouldn’t be in the way, she finally took a seat with a quiet coat-scraping noise. It was understandable she hadn’t taken it off; it wasn’t much warmer in here than outside, just sheltered. “Your voice sounds kinda painful, though; you sure you don’t want me to do some soup for you? It only takes a few minutes.”

“Eh…” Faye let her negative thoughts get washed away by the fact that Marie was still _here_ and she _did_ care and wanted to help, despite how stubborn and annoying Faye was, and that was _technically_ still a negative thought, but… “Do you want some? There’s a lot in one tin – unless you’re allergic to soup.”

“Soup? No.” Marie gave a single laugh. “Tomato? Yeah.”

“… Didn’t you host a splatfest about pizza?”

“Pizza is _really_ _good_ and worth the consequences. Except when Callie orders it for a week straight. That happened a while ago and it was—well— I don’t want to talk about that.”

Even if she only stayed long enough to heat up a pan of soup, Marie was still good company. Faye’s throat felt a little raw from speaking by the time she left, but the warm meal definitely helped with that. Fuelled by this, Faye was even brave enough to dissolve one of the paracetamol tablets in a glass of water, and even if she only managed to drink half of it before the anxiety made her stop, that was still better than nothing.

Feeling her headache and fever starting to subside a little, Faye crawled back into bed with the intention to sleep the rest of the day away in the hopes it would get rid of her illness faster. She glanced briefly at the blanket, still folded on the table, and decided this was as good a time as any to find out if it was as warm as it looked.

It absolutely was. Faye wrapped herself up in it and immediately the chill of the cabin just seemed to fade, like she’d been dunked in a hot spring on a cold mountain. She had a brief fleeting realisation that since it had been in her room for a long time, it did kind of smell like Marie, which was oddly comforting, but she wasn’t conscious for long enough to tell herself to stop being gay for her friend as she drifted off into her most peaceful rest in days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Faye and Marie interact in a chapter and I go :]  
> Also this is a quarter of the way through the story and time is passing very fast


	11. Secrets Best Kept

Today was one of those days when everything felt ever so slightly out of the norm, and Marie hadn’t decided if it was in a good or bad way. On the one hand, it made her feeble gay hearts happy to be able to spend time with Faye, even if she could be incredibly stubborn and seemed to be struggling with something she wasn’t willing to talk about. On the _other_ hand, it did sound very much like she had the flu, and Marie did not particularly want the flu. As soon as she reached the studio, she washed her non-metaphorical hands four times just in case she _had_ somehow picked up some flu germs. She wasn’t sure if she was more worried about the thought of getting the flu, or Callie catching it from her and spending an entire week sulking because she didn’t want to sit still long enough to rest.

Speaking of the devil, this was one of few occasions they were called into the studio together in recent times, and Callie was, as usual, far too enthusiastic about it, even though all they were needed for today was a photoshoot. The organisers of the league tournament wanted to kick up as big of a hype for the league finals as possible even though they were months away, and using the Squid Sisters for advertising was one of their ways of doing this. Marie wondered again why they had stooped so low as to accept this gig in the first place, but decided that seeing how happy Callie was to actually do something _together_ again was worth feeling slightly B-list.

It was a rather generic photoshoot, though. Marie wondered at first how observant they expected their fans to be, if they really needed to take new photos of them doing their signature pose instead of just using one from a few years ago, but what _was_ new was posing with the currently-league-approved weapons. At least the person running this had done their homework, and gave Callie a splat roller and Marie a splat charger. Silently, Marie wondered if Sheldon was receiving commission from this.

After half an hour of holding positions and trying not to blink at inconvenient times, their job was done. The two of them headed for the changing rooms to fight their way out of the outfits they’d worn every day a few years ago; Marie’s felt a little off to her, and she wasn’t sure if it was just because she hadn’t worn it in so long, or if all the stress from the past year had made her lose weight. She definitely needed to try and fix her diet and maybe get some more exercise in if she was going to do an entire concert and not suffer the consequences of letting her health slide.

Marie shrugged off her dress and changed back into her regular clothes in record time; she still wasn’t too keen on being underdressed around others, even if it was just her cousin she’d shared a dressing room with for years when they hosted the news.

“Hey, Mar,” Callie spoke up suddenly. She was still fighting her shirt, trying to get her long hair out through the neck hole, and Marie decided to actually show some sympathy and help her rather than just watch her struggle for the next few minutes. Callie straightened out her shirt and gave Marie’s arm a gentle nudge while she reached for her cardigan. “That’s not what I was ‘hey, Mar’-ing for, but thanks.”

“Oh no. Why do I get a terrible feeling?” Marie tutted, rolling her eyes as she picked up her facemask and debated putting it on. She needed to head across town after this to pre-record content for her radio show, but she’d rather stay in the warm studio for as long as possible instead of going outside into the cold. Absent-mindedly, she wondered if there was a way she could bring Faye to the studio, but that was probably a bad idea for multiple reasons, not just because she would get everyone sick.

“See? You’re doing it now!”

“What?” Marie wasn’t even aware Callie had said anything, until she looked back at her cousin, now with her beanie back on and covering the bow her hair was tied in.

“Your head’s in the clouds today, Marie. What’s up?” Callie gave her a half-teasing half-concerned look. “You didn’t just wake up before coming here, did you? I thought you were doing the groceries.”

“No, I did. They were out of your cereal, by the way, so you’ll have to get it somewhere else.”

“Aww, but they don’t _do_ it anywhere else—” Callie stopped suddenly, giving a quick shake of her head, and pouted. “Hey, we’re having a serious conversation here, don’t distract me with _cereal_! You have something on your mind.”

“Yes, they’re called thoughts,” Marie joked. “You should try them sometime.”

“Oh, shut up,” Callie gave her a gentle-for-Callie-standards shove, which still almost threw Marie off her balance. She turned to the mirror to make sure her hair wasn’t misplaced, and gave Marie’s reflection a look through narrowed eyes as she took the advice of actually thinking. “Well, you don’t seem _super_ upset about anything, so… you must have seen Faye today.”

“What?” Marie, not meeting her gaze in the mirror, threw a glare at the back of Callie’s head instead, slightly horrified at how easily she’d worked that out. “Pff, no, I— I don’t know what you’re— oh, fuck it, you already know I’m a mess.” If anything, at least that drew a surprised laugh out of her cousin. “ _Yes_ , I saw her.”

“I _knew_ it!” Callie spun on her heel to target her with an accusatory point, which fell after a few seconds. “Was she actually nice to you today?”

“It’s absolutely none of your business, but yes.” Marie rolled her eyes again. “She seemed kinda sick, so I brought her some stuff, that’s all. I think she might have the flu, so I’m just… worried, that’s all. She’s been living in Gramps’ old cabin, and it’s _freezing_ in there.”

“Aw, how incredibly _sweet_ of you, Marie,” Callie grinned, in that way where she thought she was pointing something out even though she’d been aware of Marie’s crush for years. Sometimes Marie regretted telling her. Her playful look faded into one of more concern a few seconds later, though, as the words sank in. “Poor Faye, though. Doesn’t she have anywhere else to go? Couldn’t we help her?”

“Not without a struggle,” Marie said with a humourless laugh, trying to ignore Callie’s sympathetic glance. She didn’t know what exactly Faye’s circumstances were; when their grandfather had first recruited her, she’d definitely been staying _somewhere_ , and though she did kind of have an unpleasant smell about her, she didn’t seem homeless. Now, though… Marie wasn’t so sure, but she didn’t know how to ask without being insensitive. And if an act of kindness as small as bringing her some soup and a blanket had been enough to set her off, Faye was very unlikely to accept her help with something much bigger. Marie was still debating in her mind as to whether she should’ve been more assertive earlier, or if she’d already been too bold.

This was undoubtedly going to be what she kept worrying about for the whole day, too, and she hated that. Perhaps she was already in too far over her head. At the very least, she could tell Faye was _trying_. Faye _did_ appreciate their friendship, she just had some kind of instinct to push her away, and Marie could tell she was fighting against it at the time.

All Marie could do for her was try her best to be supportive. Marie remembered, regretfully, that there were things even Callie didn’t know about her, but those things were why she knew she wasn’t wasting her efforts on someone who didn’t care about her. There was no way she could explain that, though, so she was just going to have to hope that Callie would trust her judgement.

* * *

After all this time, _so many days_ of _waiting_ for her to have _enough free time_ , Marina had _finally_ agreed to do that check she’d promised Margin. Finally. It felt like _so_ _long_ since that deal they’d made – probably, like, a week and a half, but in fairness that _was_ a long time – and yet _still_ she insisted on holding a conversation as they walked down to where the junkyard was.

“So, what have you been up to recently?” Marina asked in a way that was probably supposed to sound like casual conversation, but to Margin, was much more like an interrogation. “Enjoying Inkopolis?”

“Just because I go there doesn’t mean I _enjoy_ it,” Margin scoffed stubbornly. She decided that it would be incredibly tactful of her to _not_ mention the fact that she’d seen Agent 3 the other day, and contemplated murder, because Marina was the kind of idiot who actually liked Agent 3 and thought revenge was wrong no matter how much they deserved it, or something like that. “I did some turf war, I guess. It’s alright. Do _not_ say anything, I know _exactly_ what you want to say.”

Marina just gave an amused smile, which was arguably _worse_. “I’m glad you found something to do – even if you are absolutely, one-hundred-percent, _definitely_ not _enjoying_ it.”

Margin glared at her through narrowed eyes. “You’re mocking me, aren’t you?”

“I’m not going to think poorly of you for having fun, Margin. You’re only going to make yourself miserable if you force yourself to hate everything.”

Margin only huffed in response. She wasn’t making herself miserable; it was the inklings that had caused that. It was _Agent 3_. She would be far less miserable if it weren’t for all the things they’d done.

She mostly kept quiet for the rest of the walk, only speaking when it seemed like Marina was absolutely _insisting_ on a reply. When they were almost there, she pulled out her phone for a few seconds to send a message to Miles, in case he was already at the junkyard; they’d mutually decided that letting Marina know about the helicopter was not a good idea, because she would more than likely deter him from trying to fix it. Neither of them were crazy enough to try and fly a giant metal sky beast that had been rotting in a dump for who-knows-how-long, but would Marina believe them? Probably not, and she’d already erred enough about the motorbike. At least the helicopter was hidden from the entrance by a large stack of trash.

[11:42] **I’m not there but I want to see what Marina says**

[11:42] **hurry up and get here then**

Margin rolled her eyes and shoved her phone back into her pocket. She hadn’t seen Miles today, but she had spent most of the morning in her room looking through her notebook, so that wasn’t much of a surprise. No doubt he would book it from the hotel to here now that he knew what was happening.

“Oh, wow,” was Marina’s reaction when they reached the entrance. “This… sure is a junkyard.” She looked around at the mountains of discarded objects with less disdain than Margin expected. “I suppose I can sort of see the appeal. It’s just… a little dirty.”

“Tell the inklings to clean their stuff before they toss it away, and maybe it won’t be such a mess,” Margin muttered.

“I don’t think that makes much of a difference after a few years.” Marina gave a wry smile. “Where’s the bike?”

Margin led her to the little clear patch of ground where the motorbike rested on its side, because the stand that was supposed to prop it up was too dented to work properly. After a brief surprised look – did she expect it to look better or worse? – Marina set to work, checking over every part that Margin could almost name from memory after all her research.

Miles showed up after a few minutes, looking a little out of breath. He gave Marina an unusually anxious glance, as if he expected her to reprimand him for something, but when she only gave him a friendly greeting he eagerly hurried over to watch. This thing had already been given the Miles Seal of Approval, so he would get to find out if his judgement was right.

After a few minutes, Marina closed the lid and gave the bike a gentle pat. “ **I’ve got to say, either you did a really good job, or it wasn’t too bad to begin with. It looks like it should run.”** She sprang back to her feet, and pulled a tissue from her pocket to wipe her grubby hands on. “ **It definitely needs new tyres, but… I think I can get you some**.”

“ **So you’re gonna keep your word**?” Margin asked, fixing Marina with a stern look.

“ **Only if you promise to be _careful_**. **This thing is dangerous for both you and anyone around you, and I don’t want to be responsible for you or anyone else getting injured – or worse.** ” Marina shook the scrunched-up tissue at her like a pointing stick. “ **Only ride in places where you can see everything in your surroundings – we’ll take it further down the mountain in a few days so you can try it out on some flat ground**.”

“ **Yes, Marina** ,” Margin droned with begrudging obedience. So, she couldn’t take it anywhere near the hotel, because everything was just _trees_. There was certainly a lot of empty ground out in the distance, but… “There’s something surrounding the city. What is it and what does it do?”

“Surrounding the city?” Marina instinctively fell back into inkling speak upon hearing it, tilting her head to one side. Margin wasn’t sure how much she wanted Miles to know about.

“The giant towers. They go all around the city, so they must do _something_.”

“Oh, the barrier. I’m not entirely sure myself.” Marina gave a small shrug, looking off into the distance even though none of the spires were visible from where they currently stood, mostly because of all the trash. “Apparently they don’t affect any of us and they’re just to keep out some nasty little creatures, so I suppose it’s just like a giant bug zapper.” Margin didn’t know what that was. “I suppose it’s fine to go outside of it, but watch out for… anything that has too many limbs? Or better yet, just avoid anything that doesn’t seem sentient. Or moves.”

“I will avoid every fly I see.” Margin rolled her eyes before turning to her friend, who probably hadn’t understood the whole of their conversation. “ **I think we’re done here. You wanna go into town? You could get that new weapon you unlocked**.”

“ **U-um—I don’t know**.” Miles seemed even more jittery than usual. “ **It looked heavy. I might just go to the library…”**

Margin grimaced; she was sick and tired of looking at motorcycle books to memorise their contents, and glad that stage of her life was over now. “ **You do you. I hope you don’t need me there to translate stuff.”**

“ **No… no, I’ll be fine**.”

* * *

“ **Do you know what Margin’s role was in the domes**?”

Miles had been minding his own business, fetching a bread roll from the kitchens and taking it back to his room to eat, because even though he was supposed to put things in it, just the bread on its own was already _so good_ and better than anything he used to have, but the sound of his friend’s name had caught his attention. Part curiosity and part fear anchored him to the spot, and he decided to huddle against the wall and listen in on the conversation Marina was having in the next room over.

“ **Octavio’s faithful pet**.” That was Anten’s voice; Margin had warned him about them, that they weren’t to be trusted because they had definitely done something treacherous if their hair had been sealed, and from the sound of things they weren’t particularly fond of her either. Perhaps that was proof that they were bad? “ **I didn’t see her much, but I knew of her**. **Why**?”

“ **She just… seems to be the only one taking this whole thing so badly, but I suppose that makes sense**.” Marina gave a small sigh. “ **There was something she told me too – I asked what her earliest memory was, and she told me it was fighting Agent 3. I guess that could have given her amnesia somehow, like – uh, someone else I know – but she didn’t seem to think anything of it at all.** ”

“ **Does Margin usually think**?” Anten’s voice was so monotone delivering that sentence that it was difficult to pick up on the sarcasm. “ **I don’t know. Maybe she just doesn’t remember stuff. There’s things from a couple years I don’t remember at all when I worked in the base**.”

“ **You did**?” Marina sounded surprised. “ **I don’t think I’ve seen you before. Were you an elite**?”

“ **Nah. Not made for it.”** Miles imagined them pointing to their hair with that sentence, which was all green instead of the black-and-coloured tentacles the elite agents had, like Margin – and Marina. **“I was a scientist. I think**.”

“ **You… think**?”

“ **That’s what other people told me. Like I said, I don’t really remember much from the base, other than being banished to the lowest part of the city for criticising Octavio’s hypnoshades plan.”**

Miles didn’t stick around any longer than that, scared of being caught eavesdropping and already feeling like he’d heard too much. It had never really occurred to him that Margin never mentioned anything that’d happened before they met, other than her fight with and attack from Agent 3, but could she really not remember _any_ of it?

He hid in his room until he got a message from her saying that Marina was checking the bike, and his will to hide was outweighed by wanting to see an expert give her opinion on it.

As soon as that was done, though, he just wanted to get out of there, but he knew Margin would be suspicious if he ran on ahead to the city without her, and he didn’t want to tell her what he’d overheard. She’d given him an odd look earlier, and prayed she wouldn’t try to bring up what _stupid_ thing he was _worrying_ about on the way there.

Fortunately she was too pre-occupied with talking about her recent ranked match victories, which was something she was doing now and apparently doing quite well at due to how over-trained she was compared to the people she was matched with, and also complaining about Marina and how she was definitely up to _something_ and also could not be trusted. Miles didn’t quite agree with that last statement, but he didn’t dare say so.

Once he was finally left to his own devices, he let out a quiet sigh. He wasn’t sure if he really intended to go to the library today, or if he just decided to because he knew Margin hated the place – she’d almost been kicked out a few times for speaking too loudly, and now the motorbike was functional she didn’t plan on going back – and therefore she wouldn’t want to go with him. That, he supposed, probably made him not a very good friend, if he didn’t want to be around her, but that was something he could deal with later. He didn’t have to _tell_ her that, right? That would probably just make her upset, and then he would be an even worse friend and it would absolutely have some form of consequence.

Miles still wasn’t that great at understanding the inkling language, but he’d found a book with lots of detailed helicopter diagrams in, and fortunately nobody else had checked it out yet, so he kept coming back to look at it. He couldn’t work out if the rusty old thing in the junkyard was any of the models shown in the book, but studying what they were supposed to look like, both inside and out, was helping him work out how to make it function. He wasn’t even that sure what he was going to do with it once it did; he just wanted to find out if he could do it. A helicopter was so much more exciting than the small errands he’d been allowed to do in the base.

He shouldn’t be thinking like this. The base was home, he was loyal to Octavio, Marina was a mean inkling-friend and definitely not the nicest person he’d ever met.

Miles almost jumped out of his skin when something thudded against the table he was leaning on to read.

“Oops! I, uh… didn’t mean for that to be so loud.” An inkling chuckled in embarrassment, patting the book with one hand. Miles recognised her; she was the white-haired inkling he’d met before, the one who was missing half an arm. Elma? Something like that. “We met before, right? I’m Ilia.” Oh, that was it. “And your name is… Miles?”

He froze, not sure if he should respond. _She’s an inkling, and I’m supposed to stay away from the inklings, right?_ Besides, she just asked what his name was, and she already knew it, so it wasn’t like he could lie. “U-um… yes?”

“Sorry for scaring you,” she said with a friendly smile that didn’t _look_ like it was hiding some kind of evil plot. “You were just here all alone, and it looks like you’re reading something _really_ complicated. I bet you’re, like, a secret genius.”

Miles wasn’t going to pretend he understood all of the words she was saying. Something about him being smart? Because of the book? Did people not normally read books? He glanced at the one she’d put down on the table, and even his limited inkling knowledge didn’t stop him from recognising that it was about maths. “Are… you also ‘secret genius’?”

“Huh?” she followed his glance, and burst out laughing. “Oh, no, far from it. I’m just trying to do my math homework. Which Andi is _supposed_ to be helping me with, by the way.”

“Andi is _supposed_ to be kicking you out of the library for disturbing the good citizens who are just trying to read.” Another inkling tousled Ilia’s shredded-looking hair, and Miles didn’t recognise this one. They had the same white colour in their tentacles as Ilia did, except it was tipped with blue instead of pink, sliced short (did inklings not feel pain!?) and swept to their right. They looked a little thinner than most of the other inklings Miles had seen, and it looked like there was something in their ears, like a hearing piece of some kind. “One of these days you’re going to get me fired, Ilia.”

“If they fire you because of me doing math homework, that’s _dumb_.” Ilia puffed out her cheeks as she pouted. “Anyway, I was just saying hi. Miles, this is my cousin Andi. They’re a grumpy butt.”

Andi turned their attention to Miles, and their eyes narrowed. “You don’t have your friend with you today? The loud one?”

Miles recoiled a little; perhaps he had seen them before after all, but had been preoccupied with following Margin at the time. Hopefully this wasn’t some kind of trap, making sure he was alone. “Um… n-no, she’s not here.”

“Good. I’m tired of giving her warnings.” Andi patted their cousin’s shoulder. “Come on, Ils. Math time, so I can get back to work.”

Ilia let out an over-dramatic groan. “I _hate_ math! I can’t wait ‘til I graduate and don’t have to look at numbers anymore.”

“Are numbers bad?” Miles gave her a surprised look. “I was thinking they are useful. Lots of… world things… is equations.”

“Ooh, a math word. Do you know how to do math?” Ilia gave him a hopeful look. “Andi is so _bad_ at helping me, because, like, it’s been years since they did actual school maths, and they have to keep leaving to help people ‘cause they’re a librarian and that’s their _job_ and stuff.”

Her cousin shot her a blank stare, as if they were used to bickering like this. They glanced over towards the reception desk and sighed, seeing a decent line of people queued up for the one person actively working there. “Time to prove you right. I’ll be back.” Ilia rolled her eyes as they left.

Miles nervously pressed his fingers together. “Um… I know about the mathematics.” That was probably one of the longest inkling words he knew, if only because it was the same in octarian. “Is… that good?”

“That _is_ good! I mean, if you go to school, I guess. Or just… want a fancy job. I don’t really know? Our teachers tell us knowing how to do math is good.” Ilia shrugged. “Could _you_ help me with my homework? It’s totally fine if you’d rather be left alone, I might just, like, need to ask how to do something occasionally.”

“U-uh…” Miles was quiet for a moment, not sure how to respond. On the one hand, he really should not be helping the inklings. Margin would be so mad at him if she found out. But on the other… it wasn’t like the inklings would gain some kind of ultimate power against the octarians if one of them learnt how to do algebra, right?

Plus… he _did_ like maths. He could definitely talk about that while doing his research.

“Okay,” he nodded after a brief hesitation. “I think I can be doing that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Miles finally makes a friend his own age who is nicer than Margin! (it's a very low bar)


	12. Abandoned

Because there was absolutely no escaping it, Marina had decided to reiterate her list of motorbike-related rules to Margin, with some new ones added in: she was to stay away from others as much as possible so she wouldn’t cause an accident; she wasn’t to go too fast; if she sensed _anything_ was off about the bike she was to stop using it immediately and let Marina check it over; she was not allowed to put fuel in it herself, only Marina could do that, even though there was no way Margin could get it herself anyway because they wouldn’t sell gasoline to a 15-year-old; she wasn’t allowed to bring it any closer to the hotel than the sign at the bottom of the path, and she had to drive _very slowly_ if she brought it up into the forest area at all.

“It’s always the _rules_ with you,” Margin huffed, irritably adjusting the helmet Marina had given her that pressed against her hair and ears. Apparently it was one of Pearl’s, and Margin immediately decided that Pearl had an absolutely abhorrent sense of fashion, because this thing was covered in pink and blue lightning-bolt symbols and was apparently the one Marina thought would be most likely to fit her, and said that the discomfort would wear off when she was used to wearing it.

“Margin, I’m already risking a lot just giving you permission to ride this thing; the least you could do is take my guidelines seriously, because they’re making sure you don’t get anyone hurt.” Marina actually sounded mildly irritated with her for once, which was saying something. Usually she just sighed a lot. “I still don’t think this is a good idea, so it’s up to you to prove me otherwise.” She finished pouring fuel into the tank, placed the empty can aside, and screwed both lids back on.

“Well, I _guess_ I can say thank you for helping.” It wasn’t like this made up for everything in the past, but it was _something_.

Marina ignored her show of gratitude, which was very rude of her, really. “First things first, let’s find out if it works. It has a kick-start, so go ahead. Don’t get on yet, though, just in case.”

_You’re making sure I haven’t done anything to it that’ll make it explode on you._ That was a reasonable precaution, given that it was Marina, and Margin might have actually considered it if she didn’t want to keep this thing. She put her hands on the handlebars, put one foot on the ignition lever, and shoved it down.

On her first attempt, the bike spluttered pathetically. On the second, it rumbled for a second before giving up. On the third, it coughed once more before finally settling into a guttural growl.

“It _works_ ,” she gawked, honestly a little surprised.

“You did it,” Marina said with a small smile, and evidently she hadn’t completely lost her friendly attitude. “Okay, now off.” She reached over and turned the ignition key she’d had made (Marina seemed to have access to a lot of very fancy things, Margin noted), and immediately the engine cut out. “That’s an important thing for you to know how to do, too.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Margin rolled her eyes, hoping the bike would start up again next time.

“On you get, and we’ll go over the controls.” Marina patted the bike’s seat, which Margin had spent some of her waiting time patching up, because sitting on shredded material sounded painful.

Margin, not wanting to waste another second, swung her leg over the bike, struggling a little to find her balance at first because it was a little big – ugh, why was everything made for _tall_ people? – but soon she was good. “I already _know_ the controls. I read, like, ten different books on this stuff.”

“Alright, so tell me what they are.”

Margin rolled her eyes and groaned, pointing out every interactive part, reciting its name and what it did. When she was done, she set a grumpy glare on Marina.

The older octoling looked impressed. “I see you really _have_ been learning your stuff. That’s great!” She gave the motorbike a single pat. “Okay, maybe you’re ready to ride – but just turn the engine on and push it forward with your feet first so you can get used to the balance.”

Kicking the bike back into life with fewer tries this time, Margin did as she said, stopping with one foot on the ground once she’d slid forward five meters. She gave Marina an impatient look. “Can I actually _ride_ now?”

Marina let out one of her Marina sighs. _That_ was more like normal. “Alright, but take it slow. You’re still getting used to the thing.” She patted Margin’s arm, which Margin pulled away from so fast she almost toppled the bike over, and Marina quickly drew her hand back with an apologetic look. “Just remember; if you feel the bike falling, the first thing you should do is change form. It’ll cushion your fall, and I can tell you from experience that if you hit the ground as an octoling, it’ll _hurt_.”

Finally, something actually useful that Margin didn’t already know. “Okay, so why do I need the helmet?”

“In case you don’t transform fast enough,” Marina gave a wry smile. “Falling off and hitting your head at a high enough speed would probably kill someone instantly, and if not, it’d destroy the cartilage protecting your brain.”

“Thanks for the well-wishes,” Margin scoffed. “I will try my best to not get brain damage.”

Margin rode in a wide circle around the clearing they were in near the base of the mountain, driving _slowly_ to appease Marina. It did take some getting used to, and she felt a little wobbly at first, glad she hadn’t just sped into it but not about to admit that out loud. By the time Marina had to leave, Margin was riding confidently. She was so glad she’d actually managed to make this thing _function_ ; not only was it actually _really fun_ to ride on, it would make getting around and exploring so much easier.

The next week was spent adjusting to her new ride, and when she wasn’t out doing that, she was out in the city, either playing matches or taking notes on anything she thought might be useful to know. She didn’t dare venture out past the barrier just yet, not trusting what would happen if she did, but she observed it from a distance. Once or twice, she did see someone pass through it, and absolutely nothing happened, but it was a very rare occurrence. What she _did_ see, when she ventured close enough, was a tiny lizard-like creature lying on the ground, burnt to a crisp. It looked weirdly misshaped despite that, and it wasn’t long before someone in a funny-looking suit showed up and shovelled it into a bag. Was that one of the weird creatures she was supposed to be keeping a lookout for?

Either way, while the surface could never be her true home until Octavio returned, it was at least starting to feel like a place where she could _exist_. She would continue to survey, to keep an eye on the inklings, to form some kind of plan in her missing leader’s stead, and one day he would return, the octolings would rise up, and they would take this place by force.

* * *

At the heart of the square, speakers came to life with the regular jingle that announced the news, and multiple heads turned to the screen on the tower; inklings and octolings who wanted to find out what the next map rotations were, and others who just wanted something else to look at during their commute.

Faye wasn’t particularly interested, but she was out here with Eight, who always watched the news like a hawk, if only because she wanted to see Pearl and Marina on the screen. After a week of having to reject her friend’s offers for company so she wouldn’t pass the flu onto her, Faye finally felt well and non-contagious enough to do something, even if it was just getting drinks at the Crust Bucket and maybe going to The Shoal afterwards. Faye didn’t have a ton of change for the arcade, but maybe there was _something_ in there that wouldn’t give her a terrible headache.

“Y’all know what time it is!” Pearl’s voice echoed across the area, which wasn’t making Faye any _less_ likely to get said terrible headache.

“It’s Off the Hook, coming at you live from Inkopolis Square!” Marina continued with the line she’d said countless times before.

“Hey Marina, we have some news before we announce the stage rotations, don’t we?”

Hmm. That was different. Faye heard a few mutters of ‘splatfest?’ from across the square, but Eight simply watched the screen, rocking lightly from side to side with a gleam in her eyes that showed she probably already knew what the announcement was. Faye decided not to ask if Off the Hook had broken any kind of NDA by telling her.

“Did you already forget what it was, Pearl?”

“Of course not! How could I _possibly_ forget?” As soon as Pearl stopped talking, something appeared on the screen behind them; the League logo, along with a bunch of effects that someone had put far too much time into. “The Splat League officially starts on Febby First! Firstruary!”

“… That’s the first of February,” Marina translated for anyone who might not have understood the Pearl speak. “That means any teams who still want to sign up have two more days!”

“The eight teams with the highest league power on March 25th will go into the quarter-finals, and then _we’ll_ get to commentate the matches! They’ll also be shown on Inkopolis TV, so don’t get stage fright!” Pearl pointed to the camera. “ _But_! That’s not _all_ , right Marina?”

“Some matches before then will be chosen at random to be shown, and all official matches will be available on SplatNet—”

“No, no, not _that_!” Pearl interrupted, leaving her co-host looking a little baffled, but Faye had the feeling this was rehearsed and that was just for show. “The _finals_!”

The backdrop changed again, and this time it was even more sparkly and included some familiar faces; Callie and Marie, holding a splat roller and splat charger and poised like they were about to enter a league battle of their own. Various people in the square gave out surprised murmurs, some of them even cheering as they saw their favourite celebrities appear on the screen.

“The _finals_!” Marina repeated, somehow with even more enthusiasm, but this didn’t sound put-on at all. “On April 4th, our two finalist teams will battle for the title of League Champion, and the event is going to start with a concert from the _Squid_ _Sisters_!” Her announcement made the cheers of the city crowd even louder. “I’m so excited; I almost wish I could sign up for league myself!”

“I know, right!? Too bad you need four players to make a league team.” Pearl sat back in her chair, kicking one leg over the other as she waited a few seconds for all the noise outside the studio to die down. “Remember to sign up if you haven’t already, ‘cause the finalists are gonna get front-row seats!”

“Remember, two more days! Now, let’s see what the current map rotations are!”

Faye, and most other people who had been paying attention just for that extra announcement, lost interest after that, not intending to play any matches. Eight was even more jittery than before, kicking her legs under the table and occasionally catching her shoes on the legs of her chair.

“Mercedes signed us up a few weeks ago,” she said, fiddling with her skull mask, which she’d taken off to eat. “I’m not sure if we can make it to the finals, but it will be fun.”

Faye had only seen her team in action once, when Eight first tried out for it a few months ago – and Faye had played against them, and collapsed during one of the matches, which she was still mad about because that was basically the only impression they had of her besides anything Eight had said behind her back – but they seemed good, and she knew Eight was a talented player, too, if her ranks were anything to go by. “Good luck. I’m sure you’ll do great.” Faye wondered, if she hadn’t been injured by Tartar, whether she would have been taking part in the league tournament – but given that it required a whole team, most likely not. “I bet you’ll get pretty high up the leaderboards even if you don’t make it into the top eight.”

“Thank you, Three!” Eight beamed, a rare thing to see when she usually had a mask on. She popped the lid off her drink container to see if there was any left, and her hair twitched in a way that Faye couldn’t tell if was disappointment or not. The octoling hair emotions were very difficult to learn. “Would you like to go to The Shoal now?”

“Sure,” Faye said with a shrug. She’d basically spent the past five minutes chewing on her straw anyway, since she’d only ordered a drink and nothing else.

As they headed the short distance across the square, it was somehow still interrupted. “Hey, hey, it’s Faye! And Eight too, but your name doesn’t rhyme with hey.”

Faye stifled a groan as she turned at the sound of her name to see black and pink heading their way. “Hello, person I definitely don’t know the identity of.”

“It’s _Karley_ , thank you very much,” Callie stated, folding her arms in a very non-serious way.

“… Karley? Really? That was the best you could do?”

“Hey, it _works_! Nobody’s recognised me through it yet!”

Trailing back a little after her cousin, as if she was wary of them being seen together just after a very obvious reminder that they existed, Marie finally approached them as well and gave a small wave. “Hey. ‘Sup?”

“Hey, Marin of the Cephalopod Cousins,” Faye joked, which brought a small huff of laughter out of Marie, and Callie seemed to find it way more hilarious than it actually was. “What’re you guys doing here? Watching the announcement?”

“I wanted to see what they’d say!” Callie said with a cheerful nod. “And how everyone would react to it. It’s been a while since we did anything together in public.”

“And making sure Pearl didn’t say anything weird,” Marie said with a single laugh. Her expression was hard to read as usual because of the mask, but it seemed to soften just a tiny bit as she watched Faye for a moment. “How are you feeling now? Any better?”

Faye flinched, just a little, and was acutely aware of the fact that Callie didn’t look confused at all which meant she knew exactly what Marie was asking her about – and of course, Eight did too, but Faye was the one who had told her that – but she reminded herself that there was absolutely no malice involved. Marie had just been that worried about her, which was both cute and made her feel a little guilty. “Yeah, I’m good. Just, like, that cough that lasts forever after you get sick.”

“Oh, I _hate_ that,” Callie sympathised. She turned to the octoling. “How are you, Eight? You haven’t had the flu too, have you?”

Eight, looking a little starstruck as she usually did whenever one of the Squid Sisters addressed her, gave a small shake of her head. “No, I am fine, thank you. I—I hope you are well also?”

“Yeah! Thanks for asking,” Callie said with a bright friendly smile. Eight gave Faye an oh-my-goodness-my-favourite-celebrities-are-being-super-nice-to-me look.

Their conversation was halted by yet another interruption, because they just couldn’t get enough of those today, as another person showed up. “Oh, hello everyone! Were you watching the announcement?” Marina was here too, now, having changed her outfit surprisingly fast from the live broadcast she’d been doing just a few minutes ago. Her hair was stuffed snugly under a thick woollen hat, which looked like it might burst if she wore it for too long, and her eyes were covered by the same out-of-season shades as before.

“Yes! You two did such a great job of hyping everyone up for it!” Callie tried to keep her voice low despite her building enthusiasm, just in case anyone in the square overheard. She used this energy instead to hop forward, taking hold of Marina’s hands and swinging them in her excitement. “I kinda wish you could’ve done the concert with us, though. Last time the crowd went _wild_!”

“That would’ve been amazing, but it’ll be just as amazing with you two returning!” Marina said with a bright smile, giggling as Callie threw her arms into the air. Her smile faltered a moment later, but only a little. “Also… I’m sorry to be a bother, but I’m going to go and check the underground city to make sure we didn’t miss anyone who wants to leave.” She kept her voice quiet, which made her words difficult to hear but inaudible to the surrounding crowds. “It’s fine if not, but is anyone able to come with me? I don’t have much time before the next announcement.”

“I, uh—I need to get back to work,” Callie said hastily, before taking her phone out to actually check the time, making it even more obvious that this was an excuse. “But… good luck!”

She was gone a moment later, as if she expected someone to try and talk her into it if she made any hesitation, and her only farewell was giving Marie’s shoulder a small pat.

“What do you think?” Faye asked Eight. If she wasn’t desperate to go to the arcade today, a slight detour didn’t sound too bad. Honestly, Faye was just relieved to actually be included in something vaguely agent-based for once, even if it was just because she happened to be in the square today.

Eight gave her a torn look. “Hmm… will you be okay?”

“In the domes? Yeah. As long as none of the potential remaining octolings also decide they want me dead.” That was… very likely, actually, considering who she was, but she knew to be more on her guard this time.

“I think we can go,” Eight gave Marina a nod.

That just left Marie, giving the three of them a wary but thoughtful look. “It’s unlikely to be dangerous, right…?”

“Unlikely,” Marina assured. “Especially if we go in pairs, and bring some headsets.”

“Alright then,” Marie also nodded, more confident this time. “Let’s go.”

* * *

It didn’t take long to reach Cephalon HQ, via the secret tunnel leading there from the alleys at the edge of the square. They picked up some headsets, and a weapon each just in case they needed some self-defence – there was only one heroshot, and Faye hadn’t brought hers with her since the initial plan had just been hanging out in the city, so Eight chose some brightly-coloured dualies instead – and headed down into the domes for the second time that month.

It was almost pitch dark inside, which Faye thought was a sure sign that there wasn’t anyone there, but Marina wanted to look around anyway, just in case.

“We should still check, but we don’t have to be super thorough,” she determined as she used the light of her phone torch to scan the immediate area. “It shouldn’t take long. Me and Eight, Agents 2 and 3? Are those groups okay?”

Faye blanked for a moment, having expected to be put with Eight, but given the types of weapons they had, this made a lot more sense. She noticed Marina giving her a concerned look in particular; she must have picked up on the fact that Faye and Marie had an argument on their last mission, and was worried there might be a repeat of what had happened with Pearl.

“Yeah, sounds good,” Faye said after a short hesitation. She was confident she wouldn’t lose her cool over anything today, and even if she did, she wasn’t going to leave Marie alone in the octarian base like _some_ aforementioned inklings.

Eight looked happy to spend time with Marina again, even if it was just searching an abandoned city, but Marie seemed a lot more on-edge – which was understandable, considering what happened the last time she was here. Faye didn’t know all the details of their last encounter with Octavio, either, but she knew Marie had been involved and _something_ had happened then, too. Perhaps Faye should’ve thought more beforehand and tried to convince her to stay behind today, but she was here now, so sending her back through the base alone would probably be even more dangerous.

Marina gave them some brief instructions – _you take the right side, we’ll take left, let us know if you find anything and we’ll meet back at the way out after an hour at most_ – and the two teams split up.

“You got your phone?” Marie asked, using the torch from hers to look around sporadically, as if she suspected there might be an attack any second now despite how quiet it was.

“Well, I _do_.” Faye pulled her incredibly-cracked phone out of her pocket and tapped the torch icon. The bulb made a half-hearted attempt to turn on, but after a few seconds it flickered rapidly and went out. “In case we want to see something, but not for long.”

“Oh, great.” Marie gave a nervous laugh. “Well, at least we have _one_ light, and that’s better than none.”

“It’s enough to see,” Faye shrugged in the darkness. “… You know, if you want to go back, you can. Marina won’t mind.”

“No, it’s—I’m fine. I’m alright. There shouldn’t be any danger here, after all.” Marie took a deep breath, and then grimaced because even her facemask couldn’t protect her from the stagnant smell of the air down here. “Let’s get going; we only have an hour. Stay nearby. I don’t want to lose you.”

A small smirk found its way onto Faye’s face, even if it wouldn’t be seen. “Aww, you care about me. Wanna hold my hand so I don’t get lost?”

“Wh—what?” Marie threw her a shocked look, and Faye wondered if she was misreading the half-hidden expression or if she had accidentally said something that upset her. “I, uh—you’re—that’s, um, you’re making fun of me, aren’t you?”

“Oh…” Well, she hadn’t _meant_ to, but it probably had come off like that. Faye felt her ears drooping just a little; she just wanted to _not_ mess something up for once. “No, I— sorry. You’re good. Let’s just go do our mission.”

The city was silent, and the two of them didn’t speak much other than a few times when Faye wandered too far from the light of Marie’s torch and it caused the more visible squid some concern. They circled around the right side of the city, deciding against going into the base as it hadn’t looked particularly inhabitable before. Everything was so compact here, the buildings close together and looming whenever the light was pointed towards them, their glassless windows gaping rectangles of darkness.

“I don’t think there’s anyone here,” Faye said eventually, her voice sounding far louder than she’d expected in the silence despite her efforts to keep it low.

Marie jumped at the sudden noise. “R-right—yeah, I think you’re right.” Her voice shook a little as she spoke.

Faye noticed the light from the torch shaking as well, as if her hands were trembling, and frowned. “Hey… you doin’ okay?”

“Yeah! Y-yeah, I’m fine, I’m just—it’s silly. I’m stupid. It’s fine.” Marie gave a laugh that even Faye could tell was forced.

“You’re not stupid. Tell me.”

“No, it’s— I just don’t like this place, that’s all. Especially this far in. I… was alone in their base before, and they’d taken Callie, and—and last time we were here, that octo—I mean… she ambushed me somewhere near here, I think, I don’t know, it all looks the _same_ and— I— I told you it was stupid.” She laughed again, but it seemed to hitch slightly, as if she was about to cry – and somehow that scared Faye far more than the spooky-looking place they were in. “I know, it’s my own fault for agreeing to come down here.”

It technically was, but Faye had the feeling that was not what she needed to hear right now. “Sounds understandable to me; not stupid. You just wanted to help, right?”

“Yeah… yeah, I guess.”

There was a small silence between them, and Faye tried to think of what she could do to help. She only had one idea, because she was an idiot and put it in her own head, but it _might_ provide some comfort. “Hey… give me this for a second.” With that warning, she carefully placed a hand on Marie’s charger, prompting her to let go but not doing so forcefully.

“Why…?” Marie gave her a confused and slightly worried look, but despite this she let Faye take the weapon from her. Now that she had a free hand, Faye balanced the two weapons she was carrying into one hand and gently took Marie’s with the other. The torchlight jolted, as if she hadn’t quite expected the contact, and for a moment she just stared at Faye. “I—u-um—thanks.”

“I mean, if this makes you uncomfortable or something, that’s fine, I just—I thought it might help,” Faye said hurriedly, mentally kicking herself and wondering if this was too forward. _Friends_ _hold_ _hands_ , _right? I literally saw Callie do that earlier, even if it was just for a moment._

“No! No, no, it’s fine,” Marie responded with equal haste. She gave a small shake of her head. “I just didn’t expect—it’s fine. Thank you.” She took another deep breath. “Do you think we’ve searched enough here?”

“Yeah. We won’t find anything.” Still keeping hold of her friend’s hand, and giving it a gentle squeeze of reassurance, Faye took a few steps forward, pulling Marie after her with a gentle tug. “I’ll let go before we find the others.”

“Can’t have everyone seeing me be such a mess,” Marie said with a quiet laugh. It soon faded into a small sigh. “Sorry for kinda freaking out back there.”

“Oh, shush, it’s _fine_. You’ve seen me do way worse.” Faye tried not to focus on how warm Marie’s hand felt in hers – or how warm her own face felt, which she was pretty sure nobody other than her could sense. “… Thanks, by the way. For what you did before. I’d probably still be sick as hell if it wasn’t for you.”

“Oh! No problem. I’m… sorry if it was a little much.” Marie seemed a lot less on edge now – until she stopped suddenly, almost yanking Faye’s arm back. “Did you hear that?”

Faye was silent, listening for any noise, but she couldn’t hear anything other than the sound of their breathing. “No…?” She followed the light as Marie ran the torch over their surroundings, but she didn’t see anything that looked out of the ordinary either – or at least, anything that looked _more_ unusual than everything else in this place. A few more seconds of silence gave nothing away, and Faye gently pulled at Marie’s arm. “Come on. There’s nobody here. Let’s get back to Marina and Eight; maybe it was them you heard.”

“Maybe…” Marie muttered. She didn’t sound convinced, but she didn’t protest, letting Faye guide them back towards the entrance to the dome.

* * *

That had been horrifyingly close.

Margin held her breath as she watched the shadowy figures leave, trying to weigh up her options as to whether she would truly be outnumbered in a fight.

In the city, there was nothing she could do to Agent 3, but down here…

It was still two-on-one, though, and while Margin had easily overpowered Agent 2 before, she wouldn’t be able to do the same while Agent 3 was here.

She remained pressed against the wall of the corner she’d hidden around until the footsteps faded, and resisted the urge to punch something because that would _absolutely_ alert them to the fact that someone was here.

Octavio hadn’t returned yet, and now Agent 3 had the _gall_ to march into their abandoned base?

Not only that, but _Marina_ was involved. She was here too. She was searching the base.

She really _was_ planning something. Margin didn’t know what, but it couldn’t be good. She could only hope that whatever way they’d all gotten down here, Marina hadn’t seen her bike hidden among the trees at the top of the canyon.

As soon as it was safe, she would get out of here, she would ride as fast as she dared back to the hotel, and she would warn everyone there that Marina couldn’t be trusted. Now that she’d seen this, they would _have_ to believe her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what if we were agents..... in the underground domes...... and we held hands.......


	13. Wilderness

Margin’s lip curled angrily, and she had to fight to not make the same angry growling noise as her bike while it sped her through the mountain paths. She was almost certainly travelling at a speed faster than Marina would have allowed, but now she _knew_ Marina was not to be trusted, so she didn’t care.

No, that wasn’t true. It wasn’t that she only just knew that now; she’d known all along. But now she actually had _proof_ , so her strong suspicions were validated.

Still, she ended up keeping to one rule, leaving the motorbike hidden amongst the thick greenery a few turns away from where the hotel was, where the only beings that tried to steal it were a handful of bugs she’d brush off occasionally. From there, she ran the rest of the way, barely out of breath when she reached the hotel and forced the doors open with such force their old hinges cried out. One of the octolings, a non-elite Margin didn’t know by name, startled in the entry room, but she didn’t stop to talk to them, knowing where most of the others liked to hang out by now.

The door to the common room received a similar treatment to the last, except this door was much lighter and banged loudly against the frame once it hit its maximum angle. That immediately caught the attention of everyone in the room; good. That was what she wanted.

The laid-back mumbling atmosphere in the room immediately died out, giving her the silence to speak. “ **Marina’s been lying to us** ,” she announced loudly, not missing a beat.

A few surprised gasps echoed throughout the room as the octolings took in her words, but annoyingly not all of them were on her side. “ **Here we go again.** ” That muttering was from Anten, because of course they had to be here at the most inconvenient of times, but even _they_ couldn’t deny it this time.

“ **She’s been sending her agents into the domes** ,” Margin continued, watching the reactions of the octolings around her. “ **She’s making sure she didn’t leave anyone behind, because she wants us _all_ captured!**”

“ **Captured**?” An octoling near the projector gave her an annoyingly sceptical look. “ **Marina is trying to help us**.”

“ **She’s trying to help us _betray_ _Octavio_**!” She was going to make them understand what Marina’s true intentions were. She _had_ to. “ **Marina wants us all under her control! That’s why she’s forcing everyone to come here!”**

**“But she didn’t force anyone,”** another misguided octoling spoke up, sounding confused.

“ **And she hasn’t been trying to control us, either** ,” added another.

“ **Then she’s already got you fooled**.” Margin scowled. “ **Why _else_ would she be searching the domes for survivors? And why would she be taking _Agent 3_ with her!?**”

More concerned mumbles echoed around the room.

**“But Marina seems so nice…”**

**“She gave us all of this, though, and I thought she was only checking up on us to make sure we were okay?”**

**“And how would _you_ know about this, Margin?” **Anten’s voice rose above the muttering as they climbed up from the sofa they’d been lying across, taking up the entire thing with their large frame. They stepped forward to the front of the crowd to face Margin, almost casting her in shadow from one of the overhead lights. “ **I suppose Marina just _told you_ her evil plan?**”

“ **Of course not**!” Margin glared at them, not appreciating their accusatory tone. She hadn’t done anything wrong. “ **I know she was down there – I saw Agents 3 and 2 there, saying to return to her, because there was nobody left**.”

Anten narrowed their eyes. “ **I see… so what were _you_ doing in the domes**?”

“ **Finding out if Octavio had returned yet. Which, sadly, he hasn’t, so we’ll have to wait here longer.** ”

“ ** _Will_ he come back**?” one of the others asked.

“ **Of course he will! He’s our leader.** ” Margin tried to weigh up the unease on their face; it was over not knowing the fate of their beloved leader, surely.

“ **He _was_ our leader**,” Anten stated in a way that sounded like they were correcting her. “ **And not a good one.** **It’d be for the best if he didn’t return.** ”

Margin stared at them with an incredulous gaze, feeling the anger rise inside her. “ **How could you _say_ that!? Octavio is your _king_!”**

**“Sure. I’m good without one, thanks.”**

**“Of course a _traitor_ would speak like that.” **She really didn’t know what she’d expected from Anten. “ ** _You_ can go and grovel to Marina for all I care.” **A quiet sound came from behind her, and she turned to see her friend approaching warily, having heard all the noise and come to see what was happening. “ **Miles! Marina has been searching the domes to make sure nobody escaped. Tell these idiots that _proves_ she’s not on our side!**”

Miles took a step back as if the attention brought to him had a physical force behind it. “ **I-I…** ” He swallowed nervously and reached a hand to pull his twitching hair away from his eye. “ **There could be… an explanation…?** ”

“ **No, there _can’t_!**” Margin snapped. “ **Don’t tell me she’s brainwashed _you_ , too.**”

To her surprise, Anten gave a snort of laughter. “ **Brainwashing? Marina? I don’t think she’s the one doing that. Octavio was the one forcing his own people to wear hypnoshades**.”

Margin turned on them. “ **Well, maybe if people like _you_ didn’t keep _betraying_ him, he wouldn’t _have_ to!**”

“ **His version of ‘betrayal’ was questioning the ethics of his rules.** ” Anten rolled their eyes. “ **Face it, Margin, he’s not coming back. All he cared about was power, and with no army to control, he’s nothing.”**

**“The army is _still_ _here_.” **Margin made a wild gesture around the room. **“ _We’re_ still here! We can’t let the inklings _defeat_ us!”**

**“Accepting their help isn’t them defeating us. We’re not an _army_ anymore; just a group of octolings who want to live freely, up here, on the surface.”**

**“By _surrendering_ _ourselves_.” **Margin stepped aside to speak past them. “ **Don’t listen to the traitor. We need to fight back; we won’t let the inklings push us around anymore, and we’ll get the revenge we deserve for _everything they did_ in the past hundred years! Who’s with me!?”**

The room fell silent.

Margin stared around at the other octolings, feeling like another knife had been shoved through her gut. “ **You’re just going to _give up_**!?” Her hair twitched in irritation, one of the tentacles at the side of her face smacking painfully against her cheek.

Her words were only met with more silence. None of the ex-soldiers would meet her glare.

Cowards. They were all _cowards_ who didn’t _care_ about how pathetic they looked doing everything the inklings wanted.

At least there was still someone she knew she could count on. “ **Miles, you’re with me, ri—** ”

When she turned, there was only an empty hall behind her.

Margin’s fists clenched. One of the tentacles she had tied back tried to latch itself onto her arm. They were shivering fiercely, almost out of her control.

“ **Margin,** ” Anten said quietly. They had moved a step back, as if they thought they would get hit if they were too close to her vicinity, and they probably weren’t wrong. “ **You don’t have to fight. Not for Octavio. Not after everything he’s done.** ”

“ **The only thing he’s _done_** ,” Margin growled, her voice dangerously low, “ **is lead us after the inklings ruined _every hope our species had_.**” Her volume rose to an angry snap, and she felt some satisfaction seeing the way Anten, among others in the room, flinched. “ **If you can’t understand that, you deserve to wallow in this pitiful dump with _Marina_.”**

She stormed out of the room, slamming the door harshly behind her and narrowly avoiding catching one of her tentacles in the force. The draft washed over her for a second, like a soulless chill.

This was hopeless. _Everything_ was hopeless. The octolings had given up on Octavio, given up on _her_ , and even her _best_ _friend_ hadn’t stood by her side.

Margin had to get away from here. Now.

She showed the front door no more mercy than before as she thrust it open, her angry march soon speeding up to a run as she fled back to the brush she’d left her bike in. The guttural growl of its engine firing up did nothing to settle her now. Its wheels left a dusty scar in the dry earth as she shot away down the mountain.

Where could she even go? Not the domes. Marina was _watching_ the domes.

And who knew if Marina had spies on the entire mountain, too? Maybe they weren’t even _her_ spies. Perhaps she was working for someone, some inkling higher-up who she answered to now, and the reason she was the one in charge of all of this was because she was an octoling and they thought it would make everyone _trust_ her.

If such a person existed, they were clearly right.

Every muscle in her body burning with fury, Margin burst out of the trees half way down the mountain, and the first thing that caught her eye was the giant pillars of the barrier in the distance.

If what Marina had told her hadn’t been a two-faced lie, it shouldn’t do anything to her – and from what she’d seen, barely anyone went outside the boundaries of the city.

Making up her mind in the blink of an eye, Margin clicked her motorcycle into a higher gear and sped down towards the line of black spires.

* * *

True to her word, Faye kept a hold of Marie’s hand until the first sign of the others, quickly letting go at the sound of Marina’s voice a few corners away and, fortunately, remembering to give Marie back her charger. The metallic casing felt so cold against her skin now, and Marie mentally kicked herself for missing Faye’s touch already, because that would absolutely be weird if she said it out loud. She could only hope that the colour in her cheeks would vanish before they reached somewhere with enough light to see without a torch, or at the very least she could pass it off as, like, stress or something. Did people blush when they were stressed? Maybe. Hopefully.

Their reunion was uneventful, with Marina and Eight having nothing to report – this whole place was empty – and Marie decided not to bring up the sound she’d heard earlier, because there had been nothing else noticeable on the way back and Faye hadn’t heard it, so it was probably just Marie being paranoid. At least there was _finally_ a mission into the domes that had actually gone well, although they would’ve been hard pressed to end up in a hostage situation for a _third_ time when the place was devoid of octolings.

Climbing back out of the domes via the inkrail was a lot of effort, and when Marie reformed on the platform at the top it was all she could do just to stay standing. Her face was undoubtedly flushed again, though this time she couldn’t tell if it was from the exertion, the embarrassment about it taking her so long compared to the others, or if her earlier theory was right and it _was_ possible to blush from stress. All three, perhaps. She tried her best to hide how much holding a squid form tired her out, and instead took her phone out of her pocket, which was buzzing like crazy now they were actually above ground and in range of a signal.

That did cause a coil of anxiety to lodge itself in her stomach; the last time she’d received a flurry of messages like that was when Agent 4 was kidnapped. This was all from one number again, and seeing the ‘9’ next to Callie’s name made her nervous that something had happened while she was out of reach, but opening the message app put her fears to rest with how spaced apart they’d been sent, even if it did make her feel a little guilty.

[12:14] you didn’t go with them right?

[12:16] Marie????

[12:18] pleeeease reply to me

[12:19] I thought you were going to find an excuse too that’s why I didn’t try to stop you!!

[12:30] Marie

[12:52] Marieeeee

[13:03] did you just agree to go because Faye was there

[13:16] you’re not responding so I guess you’re in the domes and you’re PROBABLY alright but if not it’s your own fault for being stupid and gay

[13:21] please be okay it’s been over an hour

Marie bit her lip as she scrolled through her messages. She hadn’t realised Callie expected her to reject Marina’s request too; she didn’t blame Callie for doing so in the slightest, and there was part of her that _did_ regret going, but it hadn’t been too bad. Nothing happened, for once.

Well, Faye held her hand, and that was pretty nice, but she would never hear the end of it if she told Callie that.

[13:29] I’m okay Cal there was like nothing down there

[13:29] Sorry for making you worry

[13:29] mariiiieeeeee ; ;

[13:29] That is my name yes. Usually spelt with less vowels

[13:29] I hate you and I’m glad your safe

[13:29] You’re

[13:30] I’m what???

[13:30] Never mind. The domes are dark and empty, I don’t think anyone’s in there anymore. Guess the splatoon’s job is basically over now huh?

[13:30] No more danger!

[13:30] I mean I’m glad we saved the city and also the octolings and stuff but STILL

“Is Callie still at work?”

Marie almost didn’t hear Faye’s question, having tuned out Marina and Eight’s conversation while she checked her phone, but her brain soon processed who’s voice it was and that she was slightly nearer, and instantly became paranoid that Faye would somehow see the message about _her only going because Faye was there_ even though that one was no longer on the screen. “Uh.” Now they were no longer in the potentially dangerous area, all of her communication skills crashed for a moment. Marie stuffed her hands into her pockets along with her phone to gather herself a few extra seconds. “Probably not.” She was pretty sure Callie never had work today in the first place. “Why…?”

Faye met her confused gaze for a second before shrugging and averting hers elsewhere. “I just— I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be alone,” she said, keeping her voice quiet so the others wouldn’t overhear. “You seemed kinda shaken up down there.”

_She’s worried about me._ Marie tried to quell the incredibly warm feeling in her hearts – was that really all it took? Apparently her standards were so low that basic kindness made her melt a little – and smiled in response, before remembering she had her mask on and it couldn’t be seen. “Oh, I-I’ll be alright. I’d… rather not mention that to Callie, anyway. I think I worried her a little just by going in the first place.”

“Mm…” Faye gave an absent-minded hum as she offered a more visible smile, and Marie couldn’t help but notice the way it creased her dark-coloured eyes ever so slightly. She was absolutely staring by this point, but fortunately Faye was no longer paying full attention to her to notice; the yellow squid was watching the others, and Marie finally averted her gaze when she realised they were approaching.

“I need to get back to the studio as soon as I can, but thank you all so much for the help,” Marina beamed. “It would’ve taken me multiple trips for sure.”

“I don’t know how you and Pearl manage the two-hour rotations,” Marie said with a dry laugh, feeling her old self return at last. “Having to do the news every four hours was bad enough.”

“Oh, I don’t find it too bad! The fact I get paid for it sure helps, though,” Marina chuckled, which wasn’t something Marie ever expected to hear her say. “Stay safe on your way out!”

They wished her farewell as she began her journey across the platforms, and once she was out of waving range, Eight turned to Faye. “Are we still going to The Shoal? Or has this been too much?”

Faye regarded her with a friendly smile and a shrug. “I guess. It’s not super late and my head’s not exploding yet.” She glanced back at Marie, her gaze thoughtful. “… You wanna come with? If you’re not up for it, or like, busy, that’s totally fine, but like – y’know… yeah.”

Her words were a little awkward, trying not to give anything away in front of Eight, but Marie understood her intentions; giving her an option to spend time with friends. The Shoal was a little too crowded and _loud_ for her taste, but on the other hand… she was now absolutely craving more time with Faye, even if friendly interactions were the most she’d ever get. That was currently overpowering her urge to run away, afraid of messing up in front of Faye when she’d already lost her cool once. “I’d like that,” she finally managed to say out loud, hoping her indecision hadn’t been too obvious. A thought crossed her mind, and she continued a little hesitantly, “would… it be okay to extend the offer to Callie? I think she’d appreciate it; she loves the arcade.”

She watched Faye’s reaction in fear for any negative change, after that last argument they’d had in this exact spot, but to her relief Faye just gave another shrug. “Sure. She’ll be glad to see we made it out alive from our deadly mission.”

It didn’t take too long for the three of them to traverse the canyon, popping out of the grate near the square just in time to hear Marina and Pearl over the speakers as they announced the next stage rotations and gave another reminder of the league contest. Marie was pretty pleased with the announcement earlier, but whoever was in charge of editing their promotional photographs had gone _way_ overboard. Hopefully nobody would think that was her choice.

She messaged Callie while they travelled around the outskirts of Inkopolis Square, using it as an excuse to keep her head down and be below the radar so that nobody recognised her.

[14:01] of COURSE I want to go to the shoal who do you think I am

[14:01] who are you and what have you done with Marie? I can never convince you to go to the arcade

[14:01] oh shush. It’s different

[14:01] it’s different because FAYE is there and you are totally in love and would do anything for her

[14:01] it’s kind of adorable really

[14:01] Callie I will kick your ass

[14:01] in arcade games or irl

[14:01] both

Marie hurriedly slipped her phone back into her pocket before there was any chance of Faye catching sight of her screen.

The Shoal was quiet today for The Shoal standards, which was probably because the schools hadn’t let out for the day yet. Marie appreciated the low-lit atmosphere and neon colours when there weren’t a bunch of strangers close to her personal bubble; it was the kind of aesthetic that reminded her of concerts, except there were no eyes on her here, no screaming crowds, just the tunes of multiple arcade games fighting for dominance.

Eight made a beeline for the claw machines, pressing her face up against the glass to look at the cutesy squid and octo plushies inside.

“You know these machines are rigged, right?” Faye commented with a gentle tap on the machine, quickly drawing her hand back when it blurted out its jingle.

“Shh, don’t ruin the magic for her,” Marie joked.

“I give the mean claw _one_ chance,” Eight stated firmly.

It grabbed one of the octopi and weakly let it slip back into the pile. Faye dragged Eight away before she could lose the rest of her money.

Marie was content to hang back, watching as Eight and Faye went head-to-head at skee-ball, with Eight winning by a few hundred points. All the warning Marie got that she was about to be suddenly smothered by a hug was a “ _here_ you are!”, and then almost being knocked off her feet by Callie. “I was looking around here for _five minutes_!”

Recovering from the shock, Marie awkwardly patted her cousin’s back. On any other occasion she would have tried to wriggle out of her grip, but considering how worried Callie had been, she decided to let her have her hug for now. “Maybe if you weren’t wearing shades in the arcade you’d be able to _see_.”

“But I _need_ _them_!” Callie pouted as she finally released her. It was impossible to see her eyes past the shades with all the lights of the arcade reflecting off them, but she grinned at the others. “Hey again! Everything go well?”

Marie internally braced herself, hoping Faye wouldn’t mention anything about her brief panic, but she had nothing to worry about. “Doesn’t get much better than an uneventful mission with no danger,” Faye said with a shrug.

After a few words of conversation, Callie immediately dragged them all into a two-on-two match at the air hockey table – which was _terrifying_ , because Callie would tunnel vision onto the puck and had zero spatial awareness, and Marie ended up colliding with her warpath twice among numerous near misses. Her self-preservation cost them the game, but Callie didn’t seem disheartened by this at all, giggling and beaming as she watched Faye and Eight high-five when their score reached ten.

Marie caught Faye wincing a little, making a motion that looked like she’d been about to hold a hand to her head, and Marie only half-bluffed being tired from the last game to sit down for a while. Faye shot her a wary look that faded into appreciation when Marie met her gaze (and also gained a warm fuzzy feeling, making her immediately decide that the decision to go here was a very good one), and they sat together with a calm lack of words while Callie and Eight took to a virtual racetrack. Callie’s utter lack of driving skill shone through as she smashed into all the obstacles and almost fell off the simulator bike at one point, but the two of them looked like they were having fun.

At no point in the past few years would Marie have imagined feeling this relaxed, less than an hour after a mission. Despite her earlier anxiety, everything felt so _right_ , so _normal_ … she relished in the moment, because knowing how life tended to go, it certainly wouldn’t last forever.

* * *

Margin sped through the gap between the spires as fast as she dared go, not wanting to stick around and find out if they would try to fry her like the various baked lizard creatures. With nothing but open land ahead of her, she didn’t slow down, barrelling across the dried grass fields. A train line stretched a ways out of the barrier but veered off to the right after a few minutes, and after passing the top of the hill that ended the view from Mt Nantai, the only signs of civilisation in sight were the occasional lonely building, or a field where crops shrivelled with the harsh winter, and even then they quickly grew scarcer the further she went.

She didn’t know where she was going. Part of her wanted to just drive for as long as she could, until fate and limited fuel decided her destination, and she wouldn’t have to care about Inkopolis or the inklings – depending on where she ended up – and maybe she could just make a new life out in the distance somewhere, where there was no _Agent 3_ or _Marina_ or _Anten_ to ruin everything in her life.

But… if she did that, she would be abandoning Octavio too, and that wouldn’t make her any better than the octolings she’d left behind in the city. Margin was still a loyal soldier, and she was determined to remain that way even if everyone else had given up. Octavio would return one day and they’d see that they had all made a mistake.

For now, though, she wanted some space from _everyone_ she knew. Perhaps the lands out here would shed some new light. This was a place most of the inklings apparently just didn’t go, and neither did Marina, and that was enough to make it worth going to even if there was nothing here.

At least it gave her more space to think. She tried to work out what exactly Marina might want to do with them all, why she was making sure she had _everyone_ from the domes, and why she was going behind their backs while acting like she had their best interests in mind, but the only possible reason Margin could think of was that she was doing it for the inklings. Marina _did_ seem pretty close with some of them, especially that short pink-and-white one with the annoying voice, and on her explorations into the city Margin had learnt that the two of them were pretty well-known, which was why Marina always hid her identity in public. If Marina was working for the inklings, why didn’t she want them to know who she was? Ugh. Everything was so _confusing_.

There was also Agent 2, and Agent 1 who she had rarely seen but knew was involved. They must have hypnotised all the octolings with their _stupid_ song, which Margin had definitely heard but resisted its effects. It was so _annoying_ that they were still alive and messing with things; having Callie under their control hadn’t worked, using one of their own agents to kill them hadn’t worked, and Margin was so mad at herself that she’d had the perfect opportunity to kill Marie and thrown it away just for a chance at Agent 3 instead.

Perhaps if she’d actually succeeded, it would’ve been worth it.

Not everything was lost, though, because she now knew one thing: Agent 3 was attached to Marie in some way. When she saw them in the underground city earlier, they’d been holding hands, and unless the inklings had very weird customs, that must have meant they were close. Margin didn’t know what exactly to do with this information, but she made a mental note to write this down later; it seemed important.

After forty minutes of driving, the grass and trees gave way to barren land. There was almost nothing out here, and little to see other than some old crumbled structures which might have been relics from the human age. Eventually, something more shapely formed in the distance, something that looked like trees and therefore an actual sign of life, but it was cut off from her by a deep canyon. Margin finally stopped the bike, climbing off and letting it rest on the ground nearby as she ventured closer to look – but not _too_ close, because the ground here didn’t seem particularly stable.

The earth cut off abruptly, almost like the ground had been split in half long ago, and perhaps it had if this was the aftermath of an earthquake. The giant crack must have connected to some kind of water source, because the canyon was half-filled with water. It didn’t have a strong current, and there were a few places where the ground smoothed off to create shadowy beaches, but it would still be deadly if she fell in there. Deep water was not a friend to any octoling.

Further along the canyon was a large bridge, further proving that whatever earthquake had caused this happened a very long time ago, although upon closer inspection the bridge was _also_ incredibly old. Parts of it were missing, leaving some large gaps in the stony pathway, and while it could probably carry the weight of a small octoling, and probably even the bike, it didn’t seem safe to drive on. Margin pulled her motorbike back into an upright position and walked it across, staying away from anywhere the surface had started to crumble away and breathing a sigh of relief when she made it safely to the other side.

She continued onwards, expecting the hard earth to change back into grass as she got closer to the forest in the distance, but it remained solid and cracked. That was odd. How did anything grow out here?

The trees began to loom up ahead, their trunks and leaves thick and blocking out a majority of the sunlight for what lay within. An old rotten signpost protruded from the ground, and Margin halted briefly to try and work out what it was supposed to say, but it was only a symbol so faded she couldn’t make out what it was.

Well, this was definitely the most interesting thing she’d found out here. The forest was far too thick for her to ride through, and there wasn’t conveniently a bunch of paths through it like on Mt Nantai, so she chose a particularly tall-looking tree near the edge of the forest to prop her bike against and hoped there was nobody else nearby to steal it. This tree stood out enough that she’d be able to find it again as long as she didn’t get hopelessly lost in the woods. Margin took out her phone to see if it could provide any aid for finding her way back here – the maps had been useful for navigating the city – but the screen flickered weirdly when she turned it on, and it didn’t respond to her touch. That was… strange.

This place was incredibly eerie, but Margin was _not_ a coward. She stuffed her phone into her bag alongside the notebook, which would probably be more useful than the glitchy device, and pushed onward.

The trees here looked nothing like the ones on the mountain. Their leaves were gigantic, and everywhere Margin looked there were trunks that were oddly malformed, some of them growing into two separate trees half way up. It was also much louder, with the chirping of insects and various other noises she couldn’t put a name to. There _was_ grass here, tall and overgrown and trying to latch onto her clothes with every step. It was like walking into another dimension compared to how barren everything had been up until here. It felt slightly warmer inside the forest, like the trees were blocking out the cold of the winter.

The ground was lumpy and uneven because of the tree roots, and Margin was doubly glad she hadn’t tried to ride her bike through here. She stood atop a particularly large mound of earth to look around. Most of what she could see was just… green, with the occasional striped trunk of a tree.

It was then she realised the stripes she could see were actually indents – like something had scraped across them, leaving lasting wounds in the bark.

“It’s just _trees_ ,” she huffed quietly to herself. Trees were not scary!

Something rustled the leaves nearby.

Maybe trees could be a little scary.

Margin hurriedly ducked behind a plant, forcing her hair to remain still as she saw a shadow move in the distance, beyond a collection of plants. There was _something_ _else_ _in_ _here_. That was either _really_ _cool_ or _really_ _terrifying_ , and she couldn’t decide which.

Whatever it was, it was _big_ , easily bigger than her despite looking quadrupedal. It was also dragging something, judging from a rustling-scraping sound, but it was impossible to see what. The shadowy creature didn’t seem to notice her from so far away, continuing on its journey to who-knows-where.

For a long moment, Margin remained perfectly still, and incredibly indecisive. She had three options; run away, continue looking around elsewhere, or follow that creature and see what it was doing. The first option was obviously too cowardly for her, the second was _okay_ but potentially boring, and the third… well, there was only _one_ option, really, right?

She just needed to keep her distance, and remain very quiet and stealthy. She’d managed to remain undetected by the inklings in the domes, so this wouldn’t be too different, right?

Her choice clearly made, Margin took in a deep breath of weird forest smells and began tracking the thing. That started with going to where she had just seen it pass through. Keeping her eyes and ears alert for any changes around her, she crept through the undergrowth, trying to avoid making the leaves and grass rustle as much as possible. Some of the earth was visible in somewhat of a path beyond it, the plants crushed and trampled, as if this was a route it took often. A few feathers littered the ground.

Well, at least this made tracking it easier. Taking a slight detour around the path in case the thing decided to come back, Margin followed it as best she could – which was harder than she’d expected, because the further she went, the more _everything_ looked trampled. Leaves were torn up. Trees were splintered – a tree was uprooted and fallen on its side, and _what on earth was in here!?_

And, even more strange, the further she followed this path, the more she could swear there was a sharp, high-pitched noise in her ears. Margin hesitated for a moment to cover them with her hands, and the sound faded, proving that it was definitely something from the outside and not just her imagining it.

The sound of running water was a relief, making the annoying noise more bearable. The trees dipped up ahead, providing the first glimpse of sunlight in a while, and Margin realised she’d arrived at a slope leading down to a small river. She saw movement ahead of her and froze; that large creature from before was out in the open now, scaly and covered in fins and scars and with a fish-like tail that scored a line in the muddy earth behind it as it walked. It was dragging a large bird towards the river, stiff and lifeless and with a singular large bite taken out of it, and Margin grimaced. Who would want to eat a raw bird? That thing, obviously. Gross.

More movement in the trees ahead caught her eye; they were taller here, casting the area beyond the river in more shadow, but there were definitely more _things_ among them. This was probably as far as she could go without being noticed, especially when there was a stretch of open land with nowhere to hide. She ducked slowly back into the bushes.

The first beast, the one she’d been following, halted at the edge of the small river. It looked down at the water, then the bird, as if trying to work out whether it could drag it through. Apparently it decided the answer was no, and it placed the bird next to the bank, letting out a quiet gurgled-growling sound. More of the forest creatures approached the river cautiously from the other side – most of them had no resemblance to one another other than the fact that they didn’t look like _anything_ Margin had ever seen before. They hesitated there, many of them glancing back while others looked hungrily at the bird.

Something creaked.

All the leaves in the trees ahead shuddered.

A branch snapped, then another.

Then _something_ appeared, and Margin felt a chill run through her body.

It was another of those weird creatures – but it was _massive_ , easily the size of the hotel, if not bigger. The trees bent and groaned as it pushed its way through, shaking its giant head to push the branches aside. It leaned over the river, and all the now-tiny-looking beasts around it hurriedly moved aside to give it room.

With a groaning high-pitched noise, it sniffed at the dead bird, which might as well have been a grain of rice to a creature that large. Even so, it opened its giant maw, revealing row upon row of long needle-like teeth, and snatched the carcass up from the grass. It made a single muffled crunch, a horrible sound, and then the beast stood back up to full height, causing the tops of the trees to quiver.

“ _Whoa_ ,” Margin breathed. She had never in a million years expected to find something like _this_ out here. Her earlier prediction was incorrect; this was both really cool _and_ really terrifying.

The colossal creature let out a weird sound, like a dry huff of air, and turned its head slowly as if it were looking for something.

As if it had sensed something different.

_Oh no._

_That’s not a good sign._

It didn’t seem to have eyes, at first glance – or perhaps they were just very small – but even so, it stopped looking, turning its head in such a way that its giant snout was pointed in her direction. Margin didn’t move, she didn’t even dare _breathe_ , hoping it wouldn’t notice she was there.

Then it let out another high-pitched, earth-trembling cry. The grass across the clearing shivered violently.

Margin had definitely outstayed her welcome.

The trees shook and snarling filled the air as a wave of terrifying beasts splashed through the river.

Margin didn’t need a second to think about her options this time. She turned, wrestled her way out of the bush trying to grab her, and ran like her life depended on it – because she was currently one-hundred-percent certain that it did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Margin is simply making some new friends :] welcome to the post-apocalypse


	14. The Hunted

The moment Miles escaped the confrontation, he fled to his room on the third floor, locked the door, and decided it was in his best interest to remain there indefinitely until Margin had calmed down enough to _not_ be incredibly mad at him for not backing up her claims.

He should have stood up for her. He should have told everyone he agreed with her. That’s what a _good_ best friend would have done. But he was not a good best friend, and instead he felt like she was overreacting and that Marina probably wasn’t actually doing anything awful and devious, and clearly that meant he was falling for whatever her evil plan was and he was a total idiot.

Margin was scary when she was angry, though, so he could go and apologise later, when she would hopefully be less angry.

He passed the time by flipping through a magazine-like pamphlet Sheldon had shoved into his hands the last time he’d gone into Ammo Knights to _consider_ turf war again. There were a lot of different weapon types, most of which he knew he wouldn’t stand a chance with, and he wished more than anything that he could understand the paragraphs of non-octarian text detailing how they worked. He couldn’t afford them all, and Sheldon was unlikely to let him take the display weapons in his store apart just to satisfy his own curiosity.

Sometime later, a knock on his door almost scared the life out of him. His first fear was that it was Margin, but that was soon quelled, only slightly, by an accompanying voice.

“ **Miles, are you in here? Could I speak to you for a second?** ”

_That’s Marina._ Did he want to speak to Marina? He shouldn’t want to speak to Marina. She was a traitor to the octarians and had an _evil_ _plan_ for them. Miles remained silent for a few seconds, hoping she might decide he wasn’t in here and go away.

But… maybe he would be a good best friend if he tried to work out what Marina’s evil plan was? That would be a good idea! It was also definitely not a justification as a reason to speak to Marina, who was quite friendly actually, and her presence assured him that things would be okay – that wasn’t the case because things had definitely _always_ been okay, he loved living underground with terrible food and terrible air and being treated with the same respect as the octarians who were barely even sentient.

When it was put that way, he wondered why exactly he was supposed to enjoy living like that.

“ **U-um… sure, I think, maybe** ,” he spoke eventually, wincing when he heard one of the floorboards creak because Marina had just been about to give up and leave. It took him a second to realise he also needed to unlock and open his door.

When he did so, a little cautiously, Marina was waiting outside with a smile. “ **Have you seen Margin today?** ”

_Why is she looking for Margin?_ What if Margin’s theory was right, and Marina was actually looking for her to silence her now that she’d told everyone and therefore obviously _knew_ , and Marina didn’t want her finding out any more info that people might actually _believe_. “ **U-um… not for a while?** ” He wasn’t even lying. He assumed that since Margin hadn’t stormed to his room yet she was probably in her own, but wouldn’t that be the first place Marina would look?

“ **Okay** ,” Marina gave a small nod, seeming distracted – though it looked more out of worry than _evil_ _thoughts_. “ **Apparently she was upset about me going into the domes earlier, so I thought maybe explaining to her would help, but nobody’s seen her since.** ”

That wasn’t surprising. Margin was probably just… out somewhere, riding around on that bike she (with some aid) had restored, or maybe she’d even gone back to the domes, but Miles wasn’t sure whether he should say any of this to Marina. “ **Why… um, why _were_ you in the domes**?”

“ **Making sure nobody was left behind on their own if they wanted to escape to the surface** ,” Marina said assuredly. Miles fought to not shrink away as she met his gaze; she definitely didn’t sound like she was lying. Perhaps Margin really had been mistaken after all. “ **I didn’t have much free time, so I asked a few of the others to look with me, and I guess Margin was in the city for some reason too… and seeing inklings down there must have been what set her off**.” She sighed, absent-mindedly running a hand over the old door frame and peeling off a splinter when it jabbed at her fingers. “ **You have her number, right? She’s never tried to contact me, and I don’t have a list of numbers for the phones I gave out.”**

Oh, so that was why Marina had gone to him. “ **Um—I—I do, but I am not good at sending messages.”**

“ **You could try calling her? I could do it for you, if you want.** ”

Miles gave a small nod, trying to remember where exactly he’d put his phone. “ **O-okay**.” It was probably somewhere in the mess of old vehicle magazines and paper on his desk, but fortunately Marina stayed patiently at the doorway as he went to look. If she figured out why he was researching all these things, she might get angry at him.

“ **Sorry to put this on you, Miles** ,” Marina apologised with a half-hearted smile. “ **I can see she makes you nervous, but I need to make sure she’s alright**.”

“ **Nervous**?” Miles repeated back, only half paying attention as he found his phone on top of a pile of sketches he’d been copying from photos of library books. Her words sank in a moment later. “ **Oh—no, she doesn’t, I’m her best friend.”**

Marina gave him a calculated look as he returned to the door, looking a little unconvinced. “ **Is she _your_ best friend**?”

“ **Of course she is**!” Miles nodded. It would be terrible of him to feel otherwise, wouldn’t it? Plus, Margin would be very mad at him if she ever heard of him saying anything different. He was already trying to decide which would make her less angry; calling her after what had happened earlier, or letting Marina use his phone to call her. Margin was his best friend, and that was why he didn’t want her to be angry.

And yet… he still felt like letting Marina deal with her anger instead would be the preferable option. Maybe he was a bad friend after all.

Marina gave a small nod anyway, and Miles hoped she couldn’t detect how much of a bad friend he was. “ **Did you want me to call her?** ”

He hesitated for a long moment before nodding silently, passing the device to the older octoling.

Marina kept the phone screen well within his view as she opened the contacts menu and tapped on Margin’s name. Miles braced himself for how Margin would react when she picked up – and when she realised Marina was here.

Miles didn’t know how a phone call was supposed to work, because he had never made one before, but as soon as the screen went off of ‘connecting’, it made a singular long tone. Marina sighed and tapped the red icon on the screen. “ **Either her phone’s off, or she’s too far from a signal.** ” She handed it back to him. “ **She’s probably gone back to the domes, and I don’t want to upset her more by going to look for her in there.** ” Marina gave him another friendly smile before she left. “ **Thanks for the help, anyway.”**

Without having any words, Miles closed his door again, deciding to leave it unlocked this time. From the sound of things, Margin wasn’t anywhere nearby – and Marina’s prediction about her returning to the domes was probably right. Wherever she was, she was Margin, so Miles was certain she would be okay.

* * *

Margin was not in the domes, and she was not particularly okay right now either.

The howls and snarls of unidentified beasts chilled the air, and the earth shuddered beneath her as she tore through the undergrowth, praying nothing would appear from within the grass to trip her. Her hearts were pounding with fear, and she swore she could feel harsh monster breath on her back.

She wanted to cry, to scream in terror, but some instinct within her managed to silence that, to conserve her energy, even though she could already tell that running was futile because the four-legged creatures could run so much faster.

One crashed over the bushes next to her and she yelped, instinctively trying to change direction – and then one of the things slammed into her so hard it knocked the breath out of her, throwing her to the ground.

It also let out a surprised sound, not expecting to catch its prey so suddenly. The second Margin regained control of her own actions, she shrank down into octo form, smaller and harder to catch, and used it to propel herself away to one side just as monstrous claws skewered the ground where she’d been.

How was she supposed to get away from here if she couldn’t outrun them!?

She was going to die.

She’d been spared a cruel fate at the hands of Agent 3 just to get eaten by some abominations, a world away from the city.

They were after her again, growling and panting and _snarling_ and _she could not escape_.

Margin stumbled again as some bushes dragged at her clothes, and pulled her octo-turning trick again to pick a new direction – was it the way she’d entered the forest from? She was starting to lose track – and a few of the creatures crashed into each other from trying to turn just as fast. They were big and fast, but they weren’t agile.

Was there some way she could use that to her—

The ground fell steeply suddenly underneath her feet, and suddenly she was falling down a short incline, crashing through the grass. She landed in a ditch of sticky, foul-smelling mud that tried to devour her and pulled her in when she moved, and she fought to escape.

Then the shadows loomed over her, and she froze.

They leapt overhead.

The grass shadowed her. They hadn’t seen her fall.

Fortunately, the beasts didn’t seem to be very smart.

Margin didn’t dare move, or blink, or _breathe_ as the howling creatures continued to dash on ahead after an invisible target, their deafening cries growing quieter by the second.

She had to move. Stupid or not, those things would eventually realise they’d left their prey behind and come back to have their meal.

Gasping for breath now she really needed it, Margin used the grassy bank to heave herself from the ditch, trying not to think too much about the gunk plastered to her clothes and skin. If anything, it was probably masking her scent. That giant one had seemed to smell her, but who knew if the different-looking smaller ones had the same keen sense.

She tried to move swiftly but quietly, ignoring the slight ache in her ankle from when she’d slipped. _This is all Marina’s fault. If she hadn’t been sneaking in the domes I wouldn’t have brought it up with the others, and they wouldn’t have been a bunch of IDIOTS, and I wouldn’t be out HERE getting HUNTED._

What a day this had turned into. She just needed to get out of here as soon as possible. The hotel was suddenly starting to seem a lot more favourable.

The sounds of the beasts were more distant, and she kept all her senses alert to if any of them were heading in her direction, but it was impossible to tell.

This was terrifying.

Even the idea of fighting Agent 3 wasn’t this scary. At least she and an inkling were on a pretty even playing field in terms of capability – and size. An inkling couldn’t turn her into prey.

Nothing was following her, _yet_ , but it was only a matter of time.

She could see flecks of sunlight in the distance, between the shredded leaves and scarred trees. Now she knew what had made those marks, this place seemed even more terrifying, but at least the sunlight meant she might finally be _out_ of this forest.

And then what? She’d be much easier to catch if she was out on the open ground.

_Ugh…_ Margin shook off some of the mud, wiping her hands on the rough bark of a nearby tree that was less scratched-up than some of the others. She could still hear her heartbeats thundering in her ears, but at least the beasts still sounded distant. For now… she needed to find the edge of the forest, and try to find her bike. That could get her out of here.

She headed towards the traces of sunlight, feeling relieved when the trees began to thin out. Margin had no doubt gotten a little turned around while in the forest, but she was pretty sure this was the direction she’d entered from – and that was proven a moment later, when she noticed the large tree in the distance with her bike propped against it. She breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, she could get out of this place. This, she decided, was _even_ _worse_ than Inkopolis.

The undergrowth was a lot sparser out here, and she ran to her motorcycle while not upsetting the local vegetation too much. Her jeans and shirt were absolutely smeared with mud, and it smelled _disgusting_ , but she quickly decided that having to clean her bike was a small price to pay for getting out of here fast.

She pulled it away from the tree, pointed it towards freedom and swung a leg over, grimacing as she could _feel_ the mud smearing against it. This had been more than enough of an adventure for today, and suffice to say almost being eaten was a pretty big distraction from what she’d been angry about, so hopefully she could find her way back to the city. She had pretty much gone in a straight line.

Margin kicked the ignition, and the bike spluttered, like it often did – but it prompted more howls from the forest.

_Oh no._

“Come on, come _on_ ,” she whined, desperately trying to get the bike to start a few more times without success until it _finally_ roared into life.

She wasn’t waiting around, tearing up grit and dust from the earth as she took off at high speed.

It was only a few seconds later that she heard a loud rustling and thumping behind her, and Margin cast a quick glance back to see two large shapes burst from the leaves.

_Time to go! Oh cod!_

The bike growled fiercely as she forced it into the fastest speed it could go. The wind stung her eyes through the visor-less helmet and dragged at her hair, but she didn’t slow down. She could still hear those monsters pounding after her, and she couldn’t tell if they were falling back – she risked a look, and saw them keeping up even with the fastest speed she could go.

Hopefully they didn’t have a lot of stamina – and had less energy than she had fuel.

One of them was the first creature she’d seen carrying the bird; the other was a lot more lizard-like and had incredibly long claws, but they didn’t slow it down. Both of them let out excited cries as they chased after her, tearing up the dry earth.

Margin tightly gripped the handlebars of her bike, willing it to go _faster_. She had to get away from here. If those things caught her…

The canyon loomed up ahead. Her heart sank.

She had two options: lead these things in circles until they got tired out and risk more of them catching up from the forest, or cross the bridge.

After seeing how many of the creatures were lurking within the trees, there was only one real option.

Margin veered towards the ancient-looking crossing and hoped with all her being that it would hold up.

It was more than wide enough for even a road-sized vehicle, but the chunks where the bricks it was made of had crumbled away were already terrifying, and were even more so at high speed. The whole structure seemed to groan as she darted across it, allowing the bike to slow just a little to maintain control while she didn’t think she could hear anything behind her. Perhaps the monsters were afraid of the bridge too.

Jaws snapped an inch from her arm. Margin screamed in fear.

_They didn’t give up they’re not afraid of the bridge THEY’RE STILL THERE!_

The bike wobbled for a second, and Margin’s heart skipped a beat and her stomach filled with dread as she narrowly avoided plummeting off one of the gaps in the bridge.

Stones scraped against each other. The whole world seemed to shake.

The beasts let out terrified wails like nothing she’d heard before.

The sound grew distant.

_Splash._

They’d fallen. Margin breathed a sigh of relief, letting the bike slow just a little as she glanced back at the empty bridge.

It was supposed to be an empty bridge.

Instead, one of the creatures was still charging towards her.

_No!_ Margin couldn’t stifle a terrified yell as she immediately pushed the motorbike into accelerating, the force almost pulling it up onto its back wheel.

It fought against her for control, swaying fiercely for a moment, but she fought back. She was almost at the far end of the bridge now. Just a few more seconds.

The stones were uneven right at the end of the bridge. Her front wheel hit one.

Her bike veered at a fierce angle, one she couldn’t correct this time, and it left the ground just as she passed the line of dusty earth.

_Change form change form CHANGE FORM NOW!_

Marina’s advice echoed in her mind and she didn’t get the chance to be angry about it, only just managing to pull herself into octopus form before she hit the ground with a force that would have been a _lot_ more painful with flesh, helplessly flailing as physics took hold and flung her across the earth. Her bike landed more noisily somewhere ahead, its engine coughing before finally cutting out mid-roll and the metal scraping to a halt.

As soon as the ground stopped battering her, Margin forced herself to transform back, ignoring how the earth scraped painfully against her octoling skin.

_Where? Where can I even go?_

Her eyes caught sight of another crack in the ground nearby, breaking apart a short cliff next to one of the old collapsed houses, and her decision was made.

Margin didn’t dare look back as she ran. She could hear that thing following her, hear its pounding footsteps against the earth, feel the ground shaking as it caught up.

At the first opportunity, she dived for the broken cliff, shrinking into an inky blob to fit through the tight gap.

Jaws snapped so close behind her that the draft chilled her entire being.

The beast snarled, trying to push its head into the rocks, crunching earth in its jaws. Margin, still a small pinkish octopus, cowered as far back as she could go, deep within the rocks where it felt like they would crush her. She could hear its teeth scrape against the rocks, feel its hot breath snorting as it finally realised this wasn’t working and wriggled its head free.

It let out a grumbling sound, reaching in with one foreleg and trying to catch her with its claws, but it couldn’t reach her, only scraping the ground. After a few seconds of trying that, it gave up with a resigned snort, stepping back and sniffing at the scar in the cliff.

She was safe here. It couldn’t get to her. Mindful of where the marks on the earth were, the limit of where safety was, Margin burst back into octoling form and let out a sigh of relief. She could barely fit in here, but that thing couldn’t get to her. Her entire body was still shuddering with adrenaline and fear.

The beast wasn’t giving up, though, pacing back and forth in front of its trapped meal; Margin was pretty sure it was limping now, and she glimpsed dark-coloured blood specking the ground and a cluster of nasty-looking fresh claw wounds on one of its forelegs. That other creature must have tried to grab onto it when it fell off the bridge, and it clearly hadn’t been successful.

_I don’t feel sorry for you! You tried to eat me, and you probably still will! You deserved it!_ Margin silently cursed the thing. _At least it can’t get me here._

She was very trapped now, though. This crevice she’d lodged herself in only went a few metres up the cliff, and there was no way out other than the one guarded by a four-legged fish monster. The only thing in here other than rocks was a tree-like plant that had grown out of the earth near the top, reaching for any trace of sunlight and harbouring some kind of fruit that didn’t look particularly appealing. Margin wasn’t an expert on fruits of the surface, but she knew well enough from living in the domes what fruit which had _gone_ _bad_ looked like.

If only she’d thought to bring a snack when she’d stormed out, but she hadn’t exactly known she was going to be trapped in a cliff today.

As the time began to pass, Margin kept a close eye on the monster blocking her freedom. It kept going from pacing to sniffing at the gap to make sure she was still there, to lying on the ground nearby and licking at its wounded leg, but any time Margin made the slightest movement, the scraping of her clothes against the rocks would make its head snap up and it would dash on right back, growling and sniffing again.

_Its strongest sense seems to be hearing,_ Margin thought to herself as she very slowly took off her bag, unzipping it as slow as molasses in an effort to not bring that thing back over here. _But there’s no way I can sneak out of here without making a sound, and it clearly can see even if its eyes are tiny._ It had large fin-like appendages on the side of its head, which probably created quite the blind spot too. Out here in the sunlight, its skin looked dry and scaly like a lizard, and it was covered in scars and nicks, which Margin guessed were from a combination of the claws of those other beasts and sharp branches in the forest. They hadn’t exactly moved around with grace when chasing her through there.

She noticed her phone in her bag and pulled it out slowly, lighting up the screen to see if it was still flickering, but it seemed to have stopped for now. Either it was a faulty device, or there had been something in the forest messing with it… perhaps it had something to do with that high-pitched noise she’d heard.

Or maybe it was something caused by those beasts, but there was one right outside, and it didn’t seem to be messing up her phone in any way.

For now, she decided to pass the time by scribbling down that creature in her notebook. Fortunately the mud on her was mostly dry by now, and didn’t smear onto the pages. It wasn’t a particularly artistic rendition, and she might have drawn the legs a little too short, and it _was_ kind of dark in here and hard to see what she was drawing, but she had the basics down.

Did this help her get out of here? No, not really. There wasn’t anything she could notice from her drawing and the few notes she took that she couldn’t tell just from looking at the real thing.

Margin glanced at her phone again. She knew Miles wouldn’t be able to do anything to help, so far away – and he’d already abandoned her once today. So, that left her one other contact.

Marina.

She really did not want to ask Marina for help. For one, Marina was almost definitely plotting something, and was _using_ the remaining octolings, and she was absolutely not to be trusted. And, almost as bad, Margin really did not want to give Marina the _satisfaction_ of her help being specifically requested.

But… it was ask Marina, or be trapped in a small crevice in the side of a cliff until a hungry monster finally got bored and decided dead birds were easier to hunt. For some reason, the thought of being stuck here in this enclosed area made Margin feel extremely anxious, but she couldn’t quite pinpoint why.

_Okay, fine, I guess I have been defeated by claustrophobia. Maybe that thing will eat Marina instead and I can get out of here while it’s distracted._ Margin scowled deeply as she reluctantly went into her contacts, wondering if it would break anything if she changed Marina’s name to an insult.

She tapped Marina, and the blank contact icon appeared big on the screen, along with ‘ _Dialling_ …’

Immediately the call cut off.

_No signal._

She couldn’t get help after all.

“Oh, great! Thank you _so_ much, Marina, you are _so_ useful!” Margin scoffed out loud. Heck, if Marina knew she was in danger of being eaten by a freaky monster, she’d probably just leave her there.

Said freaky monster was alerted by the sound of her voice, though, scrambling back to its feet and limping to the crack in the wall with a low grumbling sound. It tried to wedge its head through the gap again, sniffing, but wasn’t any more successful than last time.

“ _You_ are the total opposite of useful,” Margin huffed at it, even though there was no way this thing could understand her words. “In fact, you’re worse than Marina! At least she hasn’t actually _tried_ to kill me yet.”

The sound of her voice riled it up again, and it snapped its jaws at empty air trying to reach her. A few stones dislodged from the walls.

Okay, Margin really did not like that. Perhaps it could get to her after all, if it tried enough. “Okay, okay, you’re not as bad as Marina, that was a terrible insult,” she said more quietly, but that didn’t deter the thing. It was skinny, and had the outlines of bones along its spine – imagine _having_ _bones_ in your body, that must be so weird – so it was probably half-starved. It wasn’t going to give up until it managed to get a nice, juicy octoling to munch on, which Margin did not particularly fancy being.

_Fine then. New approach._ Margin stuffed her book and phone back into her bag and pulled it onto her shoulders, feeling stiff as she stood up for the first time after an hour of sitting in a cramped position in the rocks. _Time to go up._ The walls were definitely close enough together for her to pull herself up the cliffs without much trouble here, but the sound of her climbing only got that beast more excited. It snarled and scratched at the cliffs, letting out a roar that seemed to shake the walls and almost made Margin slip.

“Will you _stop_ that!?” she snapped, finally managing to grab onto the trunk of the plant growing out of the cliff above her, and heaved herself up onto it. It creaked a little under her weight, but it held.

The beast reared up onto its hind legs, sniffing and growling as it tried to reach her – and Margin realised with a jolt of fear that the gap in the cliffs was wider up here. It could shove its snout further into the rocks, and it was trying to pull itself up to reach her.

_Oh cod oh cod this was a mistake!_ Margin reached for the only real ammo she had, one of the old rotting fruits – it was like a soft apple and made an awful squelching noise when she ripped it from the tree, but she threw it with as much force as she could in the confined space. “ _Stay_ _BACK_!”

It caught the creature directly on the snout, and it let out a surprised yelp, scrambling away from the cliffs and almost falling onto its back in the process. It shook its head fiercely, pawing at the top of its snout where it had been hit with webbed fin-like claws. Then it sniffed, and swished its long forked tongue over the mess that had splattered on its face. The remainder of the old fruit lay on the ground nearby, and the creature quickly tracked it down, grabbing it in its jaws and throwing its head back to crunch it up.

_Ew! You actually want to eat that thing!?_ Margin grimaced. She could still feel some of the sticky juice on her hands, and tried to wipe it off on the leaves of the plant, which weren’t really much better.

The creature with no taste buds was pacing at the bottom of the cliffs, another growl echoing from within its body. It didn’t try climbing this time. _Good! You’ve learned your lesson._ Perhaps if she kept throwing fruit at it, it would eventually get scared and run off. Margin plucked another from the tree, flinging it down.

She missed this time, and it hit the ground behind the monster instead, turning into a mushy mess on the earth. The thing turned at the noise, and the fins on the side of its head fanned out a little as it crouched down to lap at the crushed fruit.

_Okay. I guess it likes fruit, and not just octolings and birds._ Perhaps this could work to her advantage after all. Margin picked more of the old gross fruit, collecting a bunch of them in her arms and grimacing a little from how _disgusting_ they were and not wanting to think too much about what it would be like to actually _eat_ one. Once she had about as many as she could hold, and there weren’t many left on the plant, she experimentally threw one again – further, this time, instead of at the odd creature.

It trotted away to where it had landed to clean up the mess.

_Aha. Perfect._

Margin threw another as far as she could manage before carefully climbing back down from the tree, only able to use one arm while the other was holding her fruit collection, but fortunately she only lost one squishy apple on the way down. The beast didn’t react to the noise, too preoccupied with stomping over to the next mushy fruit to eat it.

_That’s it. Just keep going after the fruit. Disgusting mouldy fruit good! Octoling meat bad!_ Ever so cautiously, she squeezed through the gap in the cliffs, only just able to fit her octoling body through. She threw another fruit further away this time, which was easier when she actually had room to swing her arms around. The beast looked up at the sound of it landing, but ignored her, licking up the remainders of the last one it had found before moving onto the next. _Good! Now where did my bike land…?_

It was lying on its side a good few metres away. The frame was a little more scuffed than before, and Margin couldn’t tell from a glance whether anything inside it had been damaged, but she _really_ hoped not. That thing working, currently, was the difference between life and death. If it worked, she could escape. If it didn’t, that thing would be on her in a second.

She threw more of the fruit as far as she could, making a nice distracting line for that creature as she quietly snuck towards her bike. She only had one left in her hand when she reached it, and flung it with all her might before hurriedly pulling at the handlebars to heave the heavy vehicle back onto its wheels.

_Please work, please work, please work,_ she pleaded to nobody as she climbed onto it, kicking the ignition pedal.

It only stuttered.

“No, no, no, not now, _please_ ,” she cried, her voice coming out as little more than a wheeze as she tried again and again. That _thing_ was going to notice. She was going to _die_.

In her desperate attempt to get the engine to fire up, she glanced over towards her certain doom – but instead of charging at her, the beast only looked up, crunching the final fruit in its mouth, and tilted its head.

_Is it…_ not _going to try and kill me?_

The bike finally roared into life, and the monster took a few limping steps forward.

_No no no no stay away GOODBYE._

Her heart thundering in her ears once more, Margin took off as fast as her bike could go. That beast was injured; it probably couldn’t run as fast as before, she could lose it quickly.

And yet, she didn’t hear any pounding footsteps chasing after her this time. Margin didn’t dare look back until she reached the top of the next rise, far beyond the ancient ruins and fractured earth she’d just been trapped at for what felt like hours.

There was nothing behind her. No monster following her, no snarling and teeth and claws. In fact, as she squinted into the distance, she could swear she still saw the shape of that beast, sniffing at the crevice where she’d been hidden.

_Good. It really is stupid._ She was safe now. Margin breathed her biggest sigh of relief yet, turning her eyes back to the way in front of her before something else could decide to show up and fling her through the air. _What a day._

A forest full of hungry beasts was definitely worse than a hotel of octolings who were betraying their leader. Margin suddenly longed to be back in the city, with a large protective barrier that stopped any such things from entering. Did anyone there know anything like _this_ was out here? Probably not, or Marina would have warned her.

Or perhaps she wouldn’t, but if she was pretending when she seemed very unsure about what the dangers out here were, she was a very good actor.

Well, whatever. Margin was aware now. She looked at the dials on her bike, hoping there was enough fuel to get back to the city, and that it was still in good enough shape to get her there.

She had never needed a shower so badly in her entire life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fishie :)


	15. Inescapable Nightmare

The spires of the city’s guarding barrier were just visible against the dark sky when the motorbike finally coughed to a halt. Margin accepted her fate, slipping off the seat with a tired sigh and resigning herself to pushing it the rest of the way on foot.

It hadn’t been difficult to find her way back, as she hadn’t deviated much from her direct path when she took off. The city felt so oddly _normal_ to her now, after what she’d experienced today. The surface wasn’t anything like she’d expected at all, and how many others knew about the beasts in the forest, so far away from civilisation? Either nobody knew, and that was why there were no warnings about them, or it was common knowledge to everyone but the octolings. Margin didn’t know which.

After a lot of thought on her lengthy journey back, she decided it was best to keep this a secret for now. Even if the octolings had given up hope for their leader returning, and thought they didn’t want to go back to him, they were just misguided. It wasn’t their fault Marina was so persuasive. They didn’t need to fear something that was hours away, blocked off by a barrier, and had no chance of coming here.

A small thought wormed its way into her brain, but she pushed it aside.

Margin felt a small twinge of apprehension as she guided her bike through the large gap of two spires, anxious that they would detect something amiss about her for being out in the wilderness and she’d get fried like a five-legged lizard, but nothing happened.

Walking up the back of the mountain felt more arduous than usual, especially guiding the bike, and by the time she reached her usual hiding place for it, all her limbs felt like formless noodles. The bike was still smeared with dry mud from her escape, but that was something future-Margin could deal with.

She used her phone to check the time – almost 10PM now, which was later than she’d expected – and was surprised to see a notification on the screen. A missed call from Miles? Why would Miles be trying to _call_ her? He hadn’t left a message or anything, and it was many hours ago now.

Whatever. She could deal with that tomorrow. It was late, she felt gross, she just wanted to get back to her room and take a shower and _sleep_. The domes had always had a strict sleep cycle, since there was no way for them to see daylight when they were _forced to live underground_ , and this was usually around when she’d go to bed. Wars had been won by waking up early.

It seemed that most of the other octolings hadn’t fallen out of their old routines either, because only a few lights were on when Margin reached the grounds of the hotel. Good. She didn’t want to talk to anyone. She pushed open the door a lot softer than the last time she’d been here, making sure to thoroughly wipe her shoes on the prickly entry mat, because she and the other octolings _did_ have to live here for now and she’d rather there wasn’t mud everywhere.

Ugh. She was starting to feel far too _settled_ in this place. Octavio couldn’t return soon enough.

“ **Where on earth have you been? And what _happened_ to you?**”

Of course. Of _course_ Anten would show up as soon as she got back and remind her of exactly why she’d left in the first place. _I almost died because of you._ Margin didn’t say that out loud, simply glaring at them in the light of a lamp on the old reception counter. It would make sense that a traitor like them was one of the first to break out of the schedule and still be awake late at night. “ **I suppose you’ve never seen _mud_ before, spending all your time lazing around in here.”**

**“Oh, I’ve seen plenty of mud. It’s usually on the ground instead of a person, though.”** Anten leant against the doorframe, on a path from the kitchen and with a glass of water in hand. They looked so infuriatingly _calm_ , as usual, and any of that respectful fear they’d had earlier was gone now. “ **Marina was here earlier. She wanted to talk to you.”**

Margin’s hair prickled with anger, both at Anten and the fact that _Marina_ was apparently looking for her, but she forced herself to calm down – which was a lot easier when she felt like she had no energy left. “ **Good for her. It’s not mutual.** ” Not willing to speak with Anten any longer, she marched past them with forced vigour, mentally bracing herself for all the stairs she was going to have to climb to reach her room.

Anten regarded Margin with a searching look, like they were trying to read something only they could understand. Typical for a traitor. “ **Well, I’ll let her know you’re back safe. She was worried when you vanished earlier.”**

_So you’re reporting to her now. Why am I not surprised?_ Margin halted briefly on the second step. “ **Sure she was,** ” she muttered eventually, and Anten said nothing else to stop her as she left. Clearly Marina had caught on that she knew something now. Was she even safe here anymore?

* * *

She was trapped underground, and she had to escape. That was all she knew, and all she could think about. Everything was silent and cold and _cramped_ , and there was no way out, and she wasn’t allowed to leave, but she had to find a way.

A song was in her mind, and that was the key.

And so, she used it to escape.

There was no freedom. Only another enclosed area, and she wasn’t alone.

Three was there, above, the powerful gun of an inkjet in her hands. She fired, and the shot flew directly into Eight, tearing her apart.

Eight jolted awake with a wail of fear. It was dark, it was _dark just like that place_ , and she thrashed around to escape the confines of her sheets.

She was trapped.

_She was trapped why was she trapped what was happening!?_

A line of colour appeared in her vision, painting light across the ceiling, and Eight froze at the creak of a floorboard. She wasn’t alone here, something was coming to get her, _it was Three she was coming to kill her_.

The reality of that thought hit her a moment later. That was all just in her dream. Three was one of her best friends. She wouldn’t _really_ do something like that, and Eight knew it. It was just that stupid nightmare again, the one which kept reappearing to interrupt her sleep again and again, but it had never felt so _vivid_ before. It felt so much like a memory, but it couldn’t be, or else Three would have remembered it too, right?

She didn’t remember what happened with Margin, either, though. The encounter with Tartar might have damaged her memory just as the fall into the metro had wiped Eight’s.

With a quiet whimper, Eight pulled her pillow against her in a feeble attempt to guard herself should her nightmares become real. The hinges on her door creaked quietly.

“Hey… Eight, you ‘kay? You have a nightmare or somethin’?”

The familiar voice broke through her fears as the line of light became a rectangle instead, and a silhouetted figure appeared at the door – but the long inkling hair was only on one side, not two, and a different shape than Agent 3’s.

Eight felt another small wave of guilt for being afraid of her friend just because of some nightmares, but she wasn’t here right now. Trying to get over her feeling of paralysis, she managed to push herself up into sitting, still hugging the pillow. “I… am sorry,” she managed to speak out, her voice shaky and wavering, threatening her with tears.

“No need to apologise, you can’t help it. I was awake anyway.” Mercedes took a few steps into Eight’s room, becoming more of a visible inkling than a doorway-shape, and picked something up from the floor; the squid-shaped cushion Eight usually slept with, but during her restlessness it must have gotten flung off the bed. Merce placed it on the edge of the mattress, and Eight pulled it towards her, as it was far more cuddle-shaped than her pillow. “… You need a hug?”

Eight, face half-buried in the Off-the-Hook-themed cushion Marina had given her when she first stayed with them, stared up at Mercedes for a long moment with a look which probably seemed incredibly pitiful from another perspective. In the end, she just gave a small nod, along with a quiet “mmhmm” just in case that was too difficult to see in her unlit room.

“Alright.” Merce sat on the edge of the mattress and held her arms out, giving a barely-visible smile. “C’mere.”

Still shaking a little after the fear in her nightmares, Eight managed to scramble out from her duvet at last, still hugging the cushion as she near-fell into her friend’s arms, not making any attempt to hug Mercedes back as she held Eight in a gentle embrace.

Merce said nothing for a moment, rubbing slow circles on the back of Eight’s shoulders as the octoling sniffled quietly. “You wanna talk about it? Would that help?”

_Would it?_ Eight didn’t know, and maybe it would, but there was no way she could even begin to explain how she knew exactly where some parts of her nightmares originated without going into details she wasn’t allowed to say – or the fact that going into the domes yesterday must have been what had caused this one. Suddenly feeling incredibly alone despite the fact that she wasn’t, Eight just shook her head slowly against her friend’s shoulder, ignoring the way the pyjama material scraped against her cheek. A sob broke its way out of her body.

If she didn’t have any memories, why did she keep _having_ them? And _what_ was she remembering!?

“Okay, well—I’m here, alright?” Mercedes gave her arm a comforting squeeze and let out a tired sigh. “Maybe it’s better to not think about it if it’s made you this upset.”

Eight wished very much that she could stop thinking about it. Still, she could feel her nerves begin to calm a little, because Mercedes was warm and friendly and comforting and the complete opposite of terrible nightmares. Even if she hadn’t known them long, Eight’s team were like a family to her, and they were here _now_ , and that was what was really important.

Besides, if her memories from before the metro were filled with fear and fighting and trying to escape, they weren’t memories she particularly wanted back.

* * *

Faye was woken by sunlight glaring directly at her face through one of the moth-bitten holes in the curtains. She grimaced, letting out a quiet groan as she tried to bury her face deeper into the pillow, but the winter sun was persistent. Eventually she gave up, realising she was going to have to actually use _effort_ to turn over and stop the assault on her eyes, but as she half-sat-up for a moment and blearily opened them, she noticed the light on her phone flickering. With a small sigh, she reached over and plucked it from its charging cable, taking it with her as she rolled onto her other side to face the wall instead.

There were a few messages she’d missed, despite it only being half nine in the morning, but as soon as she’d gotten home yesterday she’d immediately passed out in bed. She still had a slight headache – the flashing lights of The Shoal weren’t her friend – but she didn’t feel quite as terrible as usual, so that was a nice bonus.

One message was from Marina, thanking her again for her help in the dome and suggesting staying away from it in future since it seemed empty and they didn’t want to cause complications, which Faye didn’t really understand. What were the complications of going into an empty dome? She’d be more than glad to never go back to that place.

The rest were from Marie, which she hadn’t really been expecting. At 2AM, no less, when Faye had definitely been fast asleep. Hopefully Marie hadn’t wanted a reply then, thinking she was also a night owl. Faye was more of a sleep-whenever-her-body-would-allow-it bird.

[02:17] Hey I probably said this earlier but I feel like it wasn’t enough? So like… thanks for earlier

[02:18] Also sorry I didn’t at any point stop to ask if you were okay

[02:18] like in the city

[02:18] I wasn’t the only one who got attacked last time we were there

[02:18] but anyway I appreciate it and I hope you’re alright

[02:19] and that this doesn’t sound patronising

[02:19] haha fuck it’s 2AM sorry if this wakes you up

[09:34] suffice to say it did not but sorry I missed all this

[09:34] and yeah im good. Hopefully this doesn’t wake YOU up bc it sounds like u need sleep

[09:35] apart from the domes part yesterday was good tho im glad you joined us. 8 and callie looked like they had fun too

There was no quick reply, so Marie must have actually been asleep now – good. As Faye put her phone back into sleep mode, letting it fall out of her hand and onto the mattress, she had the fleeting thought of _I wish she was asleep here with me,_ followed quickly by an _auugghhh stop thinking things like that stop being gay for your friend!!!_

She was so stupid for allowing that damn crush to fester and develop. Everyone and their mother probably had a crush on Marie; she was a _celebrity_. That was the reason why. That was all.

Plus, if anyone ever found out her thought process included ‘wanting to be held by a cute girl while she slept’, that would definitely put a damper on her tough reputation, and she couldn’t have that.

* * *

Margin must have been extra tired from her voyage into the great unknown, because she woke up hours later than her usual routine. That in itself was a little frustrating, but it was _fine_ , she had no time constraints – except, after taking another shower because that awful smell still lingered on her skin, and deciding there was no salvaging the clothes she’d been wearing yesterday because they were stained and torn by the forest, enough time had passed already in the day that by the time she _did_ go downstairs to get some food to eat after almost twenty-four hours without, Marina was there.

Oh, good. Wonderful. Margin decided to try and sneak through to the kitchen by not reacting to her at all, but of course Marina had to notice her anyway.

“Oh! Margin, there you are.” She offered an annoyingly friendly wave as she approached, still wearing her fluffy-hooded coat, so clearly she didn’t intend on staying for long. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

“I’m sure you’re going to anyway,” Margin muttered, only gracing her with a passing glare as she continued her journey to the kitchen.

“No accusations today, huh?” Marina sounded vaguely amused as she followed. _Ughhh go away._

Margin huffed, wishing the kitchen was slightly further away just so she could actually get a reasonable distance from her. “What’s the point? You’ve brainwashed everyone into taking your side anyway, I’d just be wasting my breath.”

“Well, clearly I can’t brainwash you into letting this all go,” Marina sighed, and it was too difficult to tell if that was supposed to be a joke or not. She opened the fridge for a moment to check inside, and Margin kept one eye on her while she searched for bread in one of the cupboards. “If you’d rather hear it from me, I was just making sure nobody got left behind. That’s the only reason I was in the domes. I won’t ask why you were.”

“You were down there with _Agent_ _3_.” Margin, focussing on what she was doing for a second, ended up directing her glare to the two bread slices she was putting in the toaster, only realising when she pushed the lever down that she had now doomed herself to have to stay here for the next few minutes. “What did you need _backup_ for?”

“The underground city is a pretty big place, if you hadn’t noticed. I only had an hour free. Is there enough bread, do you think…?”

Margin was thrown off by her question for a second before realising she was just asking about the current supply of food. As much as she hated to actually help Marina, she _was_ the source of everyone’s meals here, and it would only be hurting the others if she refused out of spite. She checked the cupboard as she tossed the packaged loaf back in. “No. This is the last one.”

“Okay, that’s going on the list.” When she looked back at Marina again, the older octoling gave a smile. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

“What?”

“Actually having a civil conversation for once.”

“I answered _one_ question, about _bread_.” Margin clearly needed to make her glare fiercer in order for Marina to get the message. “That doesn’t mean I think what you’re doing is okay.”

“Ah.” Marina nodded wisely. “I’ll add ‘buying groceries’ to a list of my evil deeds.”

Margin slammed one hand on the counter – which didn’t make nearly as loud a noise as she expected it to, and hurt a little. “You _know_ that’s not what I mean!”

“Okay, alright.” Marina held her hands up in a non-serious surrender. “I’ll stop teasing you. Can I at least ask what happened yesterday? Apparently you didn’t come back until late, and you showed up covered in mud. You didn’t crash, did you?”

“It’s none of your business where I was,” Margin scowled. Of all people, she definitely wasn’t going to talk to _Marina_ about yesterday.

“I just want to make sure you’re not being reckless.” Marina shook her head as she checked another cupboard. “Someone told me you were upset, and by the time I could get up here they said you were missing, and you had your phone off, so you can’t blame me for being a little worried.”

“ _Worried_ ,” Margin grumbled, not believing that in the slightest – maybe she’d been worried if she needed Margin for whatever she was planning – until something dawned on her. There were two ways Marina could possibly have known that her phone was off; either she was in fact tracking Margin despite claiming not to, or… “That was you — _you_ were the one who called me yesterday?” From Miles’ phone. She hadn’t seen him last night, and she didn’t know where he was now, and if Marina had his _phone_ … Margin suddenly felt sick, and not just from not eating. “Where’s Miles!? _What did you do to him_!?”

Marina actually looked surprised at her sudden outburst, taking a step back. “What? I haven’t seen him today; he might be in his room still. Why would I—”

“ _Why_ did you have _his_ _phone_?” Margin took a few steps towards Marina, her hair lashing with fury. Of course Marina would do something like that; she knew Miles was her best friend, and she was willing to play dirty in order to get to her, even if that included using him as a threat.

“I asked him if I could use it to try and call you, since I don’t have your number,” Marina responded, her voice level, though for once there was a wary look in her eye. She was trying to weigh up if Margin would actually try and attack her. “Margin, please calm down.”

“I won’t calm down if you _threaten_ my best friend!” The toaster pinged in the background, but Margin barely noticed.

“That’s… very much a conclusion you jumped to yourself,” Marina said with a wry smile, as if that was supposed to convince her. “I wouldn’t do anything to him. He was worried about you too, that’s all.”

“Oh, and I suppose I’m supposed to believe everything you say?” Margin growled. “If you’re telling the truth, then bring him here. Safely.”

“Margin, I don’t know where he is, I don’t have time to—”

“Then _find_ him!”

“ _Margin_.” Marina’s voice changed as she spoke her name; it was more of a commanding tone, and her expression didn’t hold any of its usual fake light-hearted friendliness as she stared down at her. “I need you to understand that I’m _not_ out to hurt you, because I _do_ _not_ have time to do whatever you ask.”

“But you—”

“No! No buts. End of conversation.” Marina drew a line in front of her with one hand. “I can promise you time and time again that all I’m trying to do is help you live a better life on the surface, but that does _nothing_ if you refuse to believe me. I will gladly sit with you and disprove whatever awful scheme you think I’m trying to do, but for now I need to get to work. Alright? Do you understand?”

Margin wanted to fight back – she wanted to argue, to try and force Marina to prove her fears wrong right here and now, but she knew it was pointless. She didn’t want to sit and be lied to her face, either. After a few more seconds of glaring, feeling her gaze falter to the counter instead, Margin finally backed down, placing her hands on the granite which had proved itself not a good punching target and curling her fingers against the smooth surface instead. “Fine. Whatever.”

“Okay.” She heard Marina take a deep breath. “I’m sorry for getting short with you, but I’m going to be late if I don’t go soon. Speak to Miles if that’ll help reassure you he’s okay.”

Margin didn’t dignify her with a response, and Marina left without another word.

That left Margin here, simmering on her fury, her slowly-cooling toast forgotten for now. She ran through multiple scenarios in her head – if what Marina said was true, if there would be any weight behind a threat if she denied its existence in the first place. Deciding that standing here in the kitchen would accomplish nothing, she finally pulled a plate from the pile, putting her toast onto it and leaving it dry as she took her breakfast with her and stomped upstairs.

She took a slight detour to Miles’ room, knocking on the door but getting no response. “ **Miles? Get out here, it’s important.”**

After ten seconds, there was no sound, not a response or any sign of movement, so he wasn’t in there. Okay, new plan.

Margin sprinted up to her room, dropping the plate on her desk with a slightly painful _clink_ , and pulled her phone off its charger. She wiped the screen with her sleeve to get rid of the dust and mud that had smeared on it when she used it yesterday.

[11:24] **where are you**

[11:24] **did marina make you do anything**

She crunched through her toast as she waited for a response, struggling to eat with how upset her stomach felt. Her right leg bounced irritably, kicking her heel against the leg of her chair as she stared at her phone screen. Two minutes had passed on the phone’s clock when it finally buzzed with a notification.

[11:26] **in the city and no**

[11:26] **why did she have your phone yesterday**

[11:27] **she wanted to use it to call you**

[11:27] **and you let her?**

[11:27] **sorry**

[11:27] **it’s fine just don’t do that again. we can’t trust marina**

[11:27] **can you get back here soon**

[11:28] **i’ll be back later**

[11:28] **FINE just make it a soon later**

Margin pushed the rest of her dry toast aside, feeling bad about wasting food, but she couldn’t stand to eat anything else for now. At least Miles didn’t seem to be captured. She’d give him a few hours to get back, and if he wasn’t by then, she’d have to go into the city and find him herself just to make sure Marina wasn’t pulling some kind of trick.

Her gaze fell on her bag; it was still plastered with mud, but due to the material it was made of it hadn’t soaked through like her clothes, and she could probably wash it off. Margin shook the contents out onto her bed, hesitating when she saw the notebook. Placing her bag aside for the moment, deciding to wash it after, she picked up the book and flicked through to the page where she’d sketched down that monster. So, that was definitely something that had actually happened, and not just a strange nightmare. She pulled the pen from the ring binding and sat back down at her desk to add some extra notes about the fruit.

She doubted any of this information would be useful for anything, but it didn’t hurt to have it down. At the same time, she wanted to find out more, to see if these creatures were something people knew about here, but there was no easy way to do that without asking anyone, and that would cause suspicion if it wasn’t the case.

There was one other way to find out information, though. Margin groaned as she thought about the library and the annoying inklings who worked there, but that was her only choice. Perhaps she’d head into the city after all; and besides, that was probably where she’d find Miles. He spent all his time looking at mechanic books in the library, so that was undoubtedly where he was today.

* * *

Jake winced as he walked out of Grizzco, putting a hand to and rolling his shoulder. There was an explosher in the weapon rotation today, and he couldn’t help but wonder if the assignments per wave were truly random, or if Mr Grizz just thought it was funny to give the smallest inkling the heaviest weapon every shift. He hadn’t even gotten to hold the Splattershot Jr that was _also_ in the list. Perhaps the mystery bear remembered him from last year, when he’d kicked Jake out of salmon run for not being able to do anything except get splatted by salmonids constantly.

Well, the joke was on you, Mr Grizz, now Jake had the foresight to actually get prescribed some contacts so he could _see_ when he was forced to switch his headgear. He took them out as soon as he was finished with shifts, and his eyes felt a little dry afterwards, but at least he wasn’t getting thrown out now.

He didn’t earn much from salmon run shifts; his pay grade was low, and he didn’t have the same stamina Rollo had, so he could only do a few at a time, but at least it was more than what turf war provided. Jake hadn’t been doing so well in ranked since hitting S+0 – and after a few months of not holding a weapon after that, because he was recovering from missing an arm. Somehow, the salmonids seemed less scary than angry ranked teammates who chewed him out for ‘making them lose’.

Jake half expected Callie to have given up on him, since he’d lost track of time while running shifts, but she was still sitting on the ledge in front of the Grizzco building, fully engrossed in a game on her phone that she may or may not have actually been able to see with her shades on in the shadowy part of the square. With a quick glance at his own phone to check the time – and cringing because he was supposed to meet her half an hour ago – he stepped into her (potential) line of vision. “Hey. Sorry I’m, uh… really late.”

“You are?” Callie glanced up at him, took another look at her phone screen to see the time above whatever cat game she was obsessed with currently, then shrugged with a friendly smile. “Oh well! We’re here now.” She hopped to her feet, and suddenly Jake was pulled into a hug he hadn’t quite been expecting, causing the squelcher case on his back to rattle. “You still want to do turf? You looked tired.”

“There was just a heavy weapon in the shifts today, that’s all.” Jake’s voice was a little muffled by her coat, and he managed to squirm into a position where at the very least he could actually breathe properly. In all honesty, he _was_ a little worn out, but he knew Callie didn’t get much free time to play turf war, so he’d feel bad changing their plans. “We can do turf if you want.”

“Well, only if you’re _sure_.” Callie released him from the hug at last – which was almost like being dropped, because Callie tended to go a little overboard on her hugs. “I need to actually buy a weapon. Isn’t there a new roller now?”

“I have no idea. I don’t know what the old ones were. I’ve only lived here for, like, half a year.”

“Oh! Right,” Callie giggled at her own mistake. She led the way to the main part of the square with a skip in her step, humming along to the tune playing from the tower as the display showed an ad for the league tournament starting soon. “I’m _so_ excited for the concert! It’s been forever since we did one.” Despite her enthusiasm, she kept her voice low so that nobody would overhear and recognise her. “I mean, I’m totally excited for the tournament too, but like, _mostly_ the concert.”

“Me too,” Jake nodded, hurrying to catch up with her brisk pace. He gave a half-hearted smile. “I hope it’s streamed or something. I don’t think I’ll be able to afford a ticket, and… well, I don’t have a team to sign up with, and even if I _did_ there’s no chance of me making it to the finals.”

“Aww, Jake.” Callie pulled him into another hug, this time just a one-armed one from the side that lasted only a few seconds. “I can get you a ticket if you wanna go! I mean, it’s my concert. Well, half of it is. They’ll let me have _at_ _least_ one ticket to give to a friend, if I ask.”

“You don’t have to do that!” Jake couldn’t help but gaze at her in awe. He hadn’t even considered that being something she could do, or would be willing to, and once again he was reminded of the fact that his best friend was a famous idol and it was kind of wild how he’d ended up in this scenario? He would always go just enough time to forget this fact before something would remind him again. “I mean, like— yeah, I’d like to go, but I don’t want you to have to go to all that trouble just for me.”

“I will gladly go to all the trouble of asking my manager one whole question for you,” Callie beamed, snickering at her own hint of sarcasm. “Come on, Jakey, you’re like, my best friend. My best friend who isn’t also a relative. Of course I can get you a concert ticket.”

Jake zoned in on the nickname for a moment, wondering if Callie knew that was the one Rollo used to poke fun at him. Somehow it didn’t bother him nearly as much to hear it from her. A bright smile made its way onto his face. “Thanks, Cal. I really appreciate it.”

Her grin only seemed to get wider seeing how happy that made him. Her expression turned to confusion a moment later as they approached Ammo Knights. “Isn’t that… uh, I don’t remember his name. Projector boy.”

“Projector boy?” Jake raised an eyebrow, following her gaze and seeing a young octoling staring into the window of the weapon store. “Oh, it’s Miles. I wonder what he’s doing.” Other than fogging up the window. Sheldon didn’t like when people did that.

With the usual bustle of the square, Miles didn’t notice them approaching until they were within a few metres, and when he did, he span around so fast he almost fell, a look of fear in his eye.

Jake stopped immediately, exchanging a surprised glance with Callie, who looked a little more wary. She hadn’t seen Miles since that first day at the old hotel, when they’d learnt he was friends with the angry octoling who had threatened them, so he didn’t really blame her distrust. “Hey, Miles.” Jake kept his voice friendly; Miles seemed a lot more jumpy than when they last met. “What’cha up to?”

Miles stared at him for a long moment, his gaze occasionally flicking to Callie or the square around them. After a few seconds, he looked to the floor instead, brushing one shoe on the concrete. “U-um… looking. Crab man talks if I enter.”

“Oh, don’t worry!” Callie said cheerily, either having gotten over her wariness or just pushing it aside for now. “If Sheldon starts rambling at you, just tune him out. I don’t think anyone actually listens to what he’s saying unless it’s _really_ important.”

Jake bit back a grin at Sheldon’s expense. It wasn’t that he _didn’t_ _like_ the crab, but he could be a bit much sometimes, and Jake couldn’t begin to imagine what it must be like if you couldn’t understand half his words.

Actually, scratch that, he had no idea what Sheldon was saying half the time anyway.

“Have you tried turf war yet?” he settled on asking. He was pretty sure the clothes Miles was wearing currently were low-level turf gear.

“Yes,” Miles gave a small nod, looking a little less apprehensive than a moment ago, but he still looked around occasionally. He’d done that a lot on their tour of the city, too, but Jake didn’t know what he was expecting to be there. “I am… bad? Aiming.” He pointed to the scar on his face.

“What about a roller? I think they’re available pretty early, and that’s what Rollo uses.” Jake was pretty sure he’d mentioned this at some point before.

“And me!” Callie added, nudging his arm.

“Yeah, but there’s nothing wrong with your eyes. You just like rollers.”

“Because they’re _fun_!”

“I promise she doesn’t work for Sheldon,” Jake said jokingly, and Callie stuck her tongue out at him.

Miles looked like he was trying to keep up with what they were saying, but he still gave a small smile. “I thought. I didn’t make decide. Buying looks… complicated.”

“Fortunately, I am an _expert_ at buying things!” Callie stated with a look that suggested she was somehow proud of this. “I need to visit Ammo Knights anyway. And if you decide to get one, you can try it out in turf with us too, if you want!” She shot Jake a quick glance as she said this, as if asking if it was okay with him, and he gave a small nod of confirmation.

“Really?” Miles gave them a somewhat mystified look as he worried the hem of his shirt. “Um… that would be nice. Thank you.”

“No problem!” Jake pushed open the door to Ammo Knights, causing it to let out its familiar ring, and being aware of the large case on his back as he moved through the store to make sure he didn’t knock anything over. Callie made a beeline for the flingza roller display, which must have been the ‘new’ type she was talking about despite it having been around for at least a year.

Miles stuck near Jake, and despite them now being in the store, he kept glancing out the window, looking at his phone at one point but doing nothing else with it. Something must have gotten him on edge, and Jake didn’t know if it would be too intrusive of him to ask what was up. It wasn’t like they were close friends or anything, and there was a bit of a language barrier in the way too.

He could definitely hazard a guess, though. Inkopolis was the first place Jake had made genuine friends, and he’d done his fair share of escaping the cruel ones in his hometown. It didn’t seem like too much of a stretch to assume that being friends with someone angry and potentially violent would be stressful.

It wasn’t Jake’s place to get involved with an acquaintance, though, especially when his theory could be completely wrong. Perhaps Miles was just anxious after being brought up in a military-based environment. Whatever the problem was, hopefully things would get easier for the young octoling soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> important lore: Callie plays neko atsume


	16. Hatching Plans

Margin was not a huge fan of the library. It was one of those places with inkling rules she had to adhere to, and during the time she’d spent finding every resource she could to get her bike working, she’d been scolded at least once per visit. Calling to her friend was so much easier than walking across the building to whisper quietly to him that she had found what they were looking for! If people needed quiet to read, that was their own fault. Everything _outside_ the library was noisy, but it wasn’t like the inklings would shut up just for her benefit _there_.

The inkling at the reception desk today gave her a disdainful look when she walked through the door, and she met it with a scowl of her own as she passed, but neither said a word. That was the white-haired inkling who had told her to ‘ _be quieter, this is a library_ ’ at least three times by now, and Margin decided they were yet another inkling she _specifically_ didn’t like. She was gaining quite the list by this point, and most of them she didn’t even know the names of and didn’t care to, including this one.

By instinct, she headed to the mechanics section without realising that this wouldn’t help at all with what she was looking for, but she was a little surprised to see that Miles wasn’t here. He said he was in town somewhere; where else would he be? Had Marina been lying to her after all, and the person she’d been talking to over messages wasn’t even Miles?

Perhaps Marina was right, and she was jumping to conclusions, or perhaps Marina was just saying that to make her believe she was so that Margin wouldn’t work out what her real plans were, and _ugh everything is so confusing can Marina just mess something up so I can find out what her true intentions are already!?_

Maybe he was just… playing turf war, or looking at something else, or seeking a new life in an appliance store. He was probably fine.

She’d give him half an hour. That was definitely long enough to be _later_ by now.

In the meantime, she had the task of working out where exactly she would find info about the beasts she’d seen. They definitely weren’t mechanical, so that was… a small start. A _really_ small start, in the massive library. Ugh…

Margin spent the next ten minutes meandering around the bookshelves, reading every topical sign for something that might be of use before she finally stumbled across ‘nature’. Those things she’d seen didn’t look particularly natural, but they sure weren’t in a civilised society, so that would have to do.

There were lots of books about ‘mammals’ that had existed thousands of years ago, and the only things vaguely similar about them and the creatures were the fact that some of them were quadrupedal. She saw the word ‘salmonids’ on the spine of a book, realising that word sounded familiar – they had some dealings with the octarian army, but Margin had never actually _seen_ a salmonid – and while the creatures in this book were definitely very fish-like, they weren’t feral like the distant beasts. Something chasing after her with a frying pan sounded far less threatening than teeth and claws.

After a lot of browsing, she finally found a book that looked to be on the right path; _Mysterious Mutants of the Wild._ On the front was something that looked like one of the extra-limbed lizards she’d seen getting fried by the barrier. _Perfect._

Flipping through it, the images didn’t show anything that was anywhere near the size of even the one that had chased her, though, let alone the massive beast in the heart of the woods. Margin let out a small sigh of disappointment, but decided she might as well read through some of the text that seemed of interest before giving up.

_What exactly causes these mutations? As far as we can tell, it’s due to radiation left behind by the humans. The sources are too strong to be safely moved, but aside from potential infected bites, the mutant creatures aren’t dangerous. Exterminatory barriers are set up around major populated areas to keep them out and reduce their numbers, but residents outside of them are perfectly safe as long as they have access to antibiotics and aren’t too close to the source of the radiation._

Was that what the high pitched noise Margin had heard in the forest was? Something giving off _radiation_? She shivered, hoping it wouldn’t have any lasting effect – but the barrier hadn’t picked her up as being a weird irradiated monster, so hopefully that was a good sign.

That must have been why the nearby town had been completely abandoned, and what the old sign had been for; a warning to not go closer, as if the freaky fish monsters weren’t warning enough. But if nobody went near to that forest, perhaps they’d never found out what was inside…

Margin flipped through a few more pages, looking for anything else useful to know, but everything was about the small lizard things. The record for limbs on one was twelve, apparently.

_Largest size on record: 74cm._

Hah! Wow. They needed better records.

_There have been a handful of recorded sightings of larger ones, including blurry images (see fig. 1), however these are often on large uninhabitable landmasses and far from populations. An estimated largest size is 1.5m._

Oh boy. She really had stumbled across something new. The pixelated-looking image was difficult to make out, and while it didn’t look _exactly_ like the thing she’d seen, it was a lot closer than any of the other photos.

Margin definitely had a few more notes to add to her list now. Not that she could really do anything with this information, but perhaps it would be useful for _something_ eventually. She could present it to Octavio when he returned, maybe, and he would be impressed by how much research she’d done, learning things about the surface that even the _inklings_ didn’t know! Even if she had discovered it entirely by accident…

She took a few minutes to scribble down this new information before heading out of the library, glad to see the back of the place but a little disappointed that the librarian was busy helping someone and didn’t notice her glare on the way out. Once outside, back in the fresh air instead of the musty old smell of books, she took out her phone to check if there were any newer messages from Miles. No such luck.

[14:49] **are you done yet**

As usual, there was no immediate reply. Not wanting to head back just yet, Margin decided to head deeper into the city; she hadn’t brought her weapon with her, but she could still look in the gear stores. She still hadn’t updated her gear from the freebies she’d been given, and she didn’t have a huge amount of clothes in the first place – even less, after yesterday – so she might as well get new ones she could use in matches.

Three minutes into the walk, her phone buzzed with a text message.

[14:52] **I am now**

[14:52] **I was doing turf**

[14:52] **I’ll head back now**

[14:52] **no I’m in the city now, wait for me outside the lobby**

Miles did as she asked, but when Margin reached the square a few minutes later, she almost didn’t recognise him at first, just because of the large case on his back. So, he’d finally decided to try out the splat roller. The square was always much too busy for Margin’s liking, but there weren’t any octolings nearby to overhear her. “ **I _suppose_ I can forgive you for yesterday**,” she gave as her greeting, cutting right to the point.

Immediately, Miles seemed to recoil a little. Good. He deserved to feel guilty for how he’d stood her up. “ **I’m sorry. You—you were right, there were just… a lot of people watching**.”

“ **It’s _fine_** ,” Margin droned. Honestly, by now she was more upset about Marina winding her up this morning and making her think something had happened to him. But Miles was here, in one piece, and not being horrifically tortured or anything, hopefully, so that was good. “ **I’m gonna look for new gear. You wanna come with**?”

“ **I… would like to go back to the hotel, if that’s okay, maybe** ,” Miles muttered, pressing his fingers together and not meeting her gaze. “ **I’ve been doing matches for a while… I’m tired, a-and the roller is heavy.** ”

“ **Maybe playing turf war with it will actually give you some stamina for once**.” Margin rolled her eyes. She hesitated briefly; Miles was acting weird, but at the same time he was also acting perfectly normal, for Miles. “… **Marina didn’t threaten you in any way, did she**?”

“ **What? No**.” His eyes met hers finally, if only for a second, and holding a strong hint of confusion. “ **I haven’t seen her since yesterday**.”

“ **Well, just make sure you keep your guard up. She was acting really suspiciously earlier.** ” Margin said this as if Marina wasn’t _always_ acting suspiciously, but she had to get the emphasis across _somehow_. She was itching to browse the stores, but her earlier paranoia held her back for the moment. “ **… Can you wait around here for, like, ten minutes? I’ll walk back with you.** ”

“ **Um… okay**.”

Leaving him to find somewhere to sit and wait, Margin made her brief round of the gear stores. She was at a high enough level now to be able to purchase the better-made gear with extra slots, but it was also _expensive_ and she still didn’t have a ton of money. There was a really nice satin jacket with an octopus emblem on that she eyed up for a while before deciding the price tag was too much for now, and she’d return for it after beating up some more inklings in clam blitz. Her shopping spree had her leaving with a red Tentatek tee and some shoes called orca passion hi-tops, which was far too much of a mouthful and not something she planned to bother speaking aloud at any point.

Miles was waiting near the lobby when she returned. He’d taken the heavy case off his shoulders for now, placing it lengthways against the wall opposite the open-windowed building nearby; that was a place Margin had caught a glimpse of Marina in the past, and probably where she worked, but there was no sign of anyone inside today. Good. Margin did not want to have to see Marina, even if there was a giant pane of glass blocking her off.

“ **Okay, let’s go** ,” she stated, grabbing Miles’ attention back from his silly phone game. He gave a small nod in response, wincing as he heaved one of the straps back over his shoulder. Margin made a mental note not to walk too close to him while he had that heavy object.

As they left, she took another brief glance around the square. Eyes looking in her direction pulled her gaze in, and the opposing party looked away as soon as she noticed; it was that little blue inkling, the one who had been in the domes. Why was he _looking_ at them? He was half way across the square, sat at a table outside the food truck. He didn’t try watching her again, though, preoccupied with talking to the inkling with him who seemed to be leaving; based on her outfit, Margin was pretty sure that was Agent 1. Was Marina sending spies to keep an eye on her now? Margin had half a mind to go over there and confront them.

She wanted to make sure Miles got back to the hotel safely now, though, and she’d already delayed this journey by ten minutes. There was no doubt Marina would deny everything if she brought it up with her, so for now, Margin would take note and keep an eye out for anything like this happening in future.

* * *

Of _course_ Marie would sleep through two alarms and eat toast for lunch in an effort to not be late for a meeting, and now that she was actually here, on time (just), they were still waiting for Callie. Her cousin still had no timekeeping ability, but she was a _responsible adult_ and Marie had stopped trying to do it for her – which usually didn’t affect _her_ in any way, except now she felt incredibly awkward being here as half the duo who used to be joined at the hip and not _actually_ knowing where Callie was like everyone expected her to.

“She’s on her way,” she gave as empty reassurance to the group who were having casual conversation as they waited. At least Callie was responding to her messages, which eased the anxiety that there might be a terrible reason why she was late, but at the same time, if there wasn’t an emergency, why did she had to subject Marie to this torture? Why, Callie. Why.

“She’s gonna beat my record at this rate!” Pearl scoffed, almost disappearing under the table from how much she’d slid down her plastic chair.

“Pearlie, one time you were so late to a meeting that it had finished by the time you showed up,” Marina said with an affectionate smile and a slightly apologetic look to the older inkling on her other side; Off the Hook’s manager was here for this meeting, along with Callie and Marie’s and a few others Marie didn’t recognise by face because they were from either marketing or the company organising the league tournament.

“Oh, I can assure you, Callie has been much later than this to some of her other meetings. This is fashionably late, by her standards,” DJ laughed. They had been Callie and Marie’s manager since the two of them were just starting out, and had more oversight on Callie’s current career than Marie did. She just picked up whatever scraps her cousin told her in the evenings, as well as anything that was officially announced, neither of which included how well she was keeping to schedule.

At somewhere in their mid-40s, DJ was still one of the most beautiful people Marie had ever seen; although, that seemed to be the case with most koi, and her manager was one of few she’d heard of who didn’t have a modelling career. They went by just their initials to anyone who didn’t require a one-hundred-percent professional relationship, just out of the irony of them being called ‘DJ’ as a band manager, and after all these years Marie would still have to sieve through her memory to recall what their full name was in the first place. For now, she just found it entertaining watching Marina introduce herself to them, stating that she was a DJ too, and DJ had chuckled with the need to explain that it was just their nickname.

Marie busied herself by checking her phone, hoping the others would assume she was actually looking at something important when she was actually just re-reading the messages she’d gotten from Faye earlier – which, in fairness, was important to _her_. There wasn’t even anything particularly exceptional about what she’d said, but getting any kind of message from Faye always sent a few butterflies into Marie’s stomach. Or, well, maybe that was because she’d only eaten a slice of toast today. Part of her wanted to ask Faye if she’d like to spend more time together, but she didn’t know how to do that without being far too obvious, and that meant having to deal with the fact that she herself had an incredibly busy schedule – and it was only going to get busier, with everything she had coming up.

She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about yesterday, though, the fact Faye had _held_ _her_ _hand_ and spending time with her in the arcade had been so _nice_ even though Marie didn’t particularly care much for the arcade itself, but now she was craving more time with her and instead she was stuck here, in a pre-meeting, waiting for her cousin to stop being late.

Thankfully, Callie’s timing was both terrible and impeccable, because she finally showed up at the door to the unfamiliar meeting room just in time to distract Marie from dissolving into an internal gay mess. “Sorry I’m late! I got held up and then, like, kinda lost in the building. There’s three other meeting rooms beginning with M!”

“I believe that’s why they’re numbered,” DJ joked, as Marie pushed the chair next to her out from under the table with one foot. “But you’re here now! There’s shortbread if you want some.”

The mere mention of free snacks made Callie’s eyes light up, any shame at holding up the meeting forgotten in an instant.

With everyone present at last, their meeting finally went underway. It was mostly just finalising plans for the league finals, with eventual decisions being that the Squid Sisters would get to commentate the final matches after their concert (Marie made an extra mental note that she very much needed to get back in shape if she didn’t want to sound completely out of breath), and that the best stage to host a starting match with a concert was Goby Arena, as it already had seating set up for when it was _actually_ used for basketball games. Pearl and Marina opted to let them take the spotlight for the finals, and relax with the stream at home instead of attending the concert and having to also deal with the potential mob of fans, but they were still going to have a lot of extra work to do commentating all the quarter-finalist matches, so they were going to more than deserve the rest.

“Oh! DJ, do you think I’d be able to get a pass for our concert?” Callie asked. “I can pay ticket price if I have to, but I want one of my friends to be able to go!” Marie raised an eyebrow at her; that wasn’t something Callie had ever requested before, but until recently their only real close friends had been each other. She also knew _immediately_ who it was Callie was asking this for, for aforementioned reasons.

“Of course!” DJ nodded, their smile widening a little at the kind gesture. “I can give you one too if you want, Marie? It’s only fair.”

“Huh? Oh.” Marie blanked for a moment, not expecting to be offered. “Uh… I’m not sure. I don’t really… know anyone?”

“Yes you _do_ ,” Callie nudged her arm, and Marie really wished she’d learn to do that lighter. She gave Marie an _incredibly_ meaningful look.

Marie became extremely conscious of the fact that their manager and also Pearl and Marina were witnessing this, and hoped none of them picked up on the subtle hint to Callie’s words. “Well—I guess— maybe I’d have to think about it? I don’t know.” Why yes, it would be a rather endearing and potentially romantic gesture to give Faye a free ticket to her concert, but would she _want_ to go? Faye had never expressed a particular interest in music, and she seemed to get headaches a lot. And if she didn’t want to go, well, the only other friend Marie had was Four, and she knew a concert would be totally lost on him.

“Well, I can get you one anyway. If you really can’t find anyone to give it to, there’s always a radio raffle, right?” DJ’s suggestion was a really good fall-back plan, and Marie gave a nod of approval.

The meeting wrapped up soon after that, leaving Marie with a whole of forty minutes to try and obtain some actual lunch to sustain her for her recording session if she wanted to get enough done today. Sean might not have had the healthiest food, but at least she’d been through the allergen list of his menu before and knew which things she could order without experiencing a large helping of regret. “Hey Cal, you have time to get lunch?” she asked as they made their way out of the building, hoping maybe Callie would be feeling generous enough to offer to buy food as an apology for making them all run late. “Sean’s near here.”

Callie clapped her hands together, a sudden look of realisation appearing on her face. “I ate there just before the meeting, but thanks for reminding me I wanted to speak to Marina.” With no other explanation than that, she turned and hurried back the way they came from.

“… Marina?” Marie echoed in confusion, not understanding how that was remotely related. Her curiosity now piqued, she decided to follow after her cousin; if it was going to take longer than five minutes, she’d give up and go get food instead.

It didn’t take long to find her again, because they hadn’t gone far from the room and Pearl and Marina were the last to leave, just now walking out the door. “Marina!” Callie called out, startling the octoling a little as she charged towards her. Marina actually took a step back as Callie finally slowed to a halt, as if she thought she’d crash into her – which, knowing Callie, was still a 50-50 chance. “Can I talk to you for a moment? About, uh, not-in-the-hallway stuff?”

“Uhh… sure?” Marina gave her a less-than-sure look, glancing back at the door they’d just exited. “I don’t think anyone’s using the room yet, we can talk in there?”

“Is it _super_ top secret info?” Pearl asked meaningfully, which was undoubtedly a hint that she wanted in on whatever it was.

“It’s… about things I don’t want people who aren’t in our super-duper-close-friend-group to hear?” Callie said with a helpless shrug.

“We have a what now?”

“Pearlie, why don’t you two wait out here and make sure nobody’s listening in?” Marina suggested, and it took a moment for Marie to realise she was the other one of the ‘two’. Wonderful. Stuck with Pearl again. From Callie’s vague explanation, it sounded like it was something to do with the New Squidbeak Splatoon, or maybe just the octolings since she’d gone specifically to Marina.

“Aha! Guard duty. Gotcha.” Pearl clicked her fingers, spinning overdramatically before leaning back against the wall and folding her arms, kicking one leg over the other in a way that was far too put-on to look inconspicuous. “Your secrets are safe.”

“I know you’ll do a great job, Pearlie,” Marina said with a small giggle, patting her girlfriend’s shoulder before beckoning Callie to follow her into the room.

That left Marie here, alone in the hallway because she did not feel like willingly starting a conversation with Pearl. She tried her best to stop her ears from twitching as she listened for both anyone approaching and what Callie and Marina were talking about – from the sounds of things, Callie was just a little worried about one of the octolings who seemed extremely nervous, and the reason she’d been late to their meeting was because she and Jake were looking out for him.

“C’mon, you gotta look more _chill_ or people are gonna _suspect_ we’re doing cool guard duty,” Pearl stated suddenly, her voice far too loud compared to the silence of the hall. “Lean against the wall or somethin’.”

Marie threw her a deadpan glare. It was met by Pearl’s annoyingly stubborn gaze, and after a few seconds Marie sighed and rolled her eyes, then shoved her hands into her pockets and leaned back against the wall on the other side of the doorframe from her. “As if we’re not going to look suspicious standing outside this door.”

“We are just two totally cool celebs having a chill conversation. Outside an open door. Waiting for our friends. That’s not suspicious.” Pearl tapped her heel against the skirting board, humming in thought. “Okay, maybe it looks a little suspicious. How has your day been, ol’ buddy ol’ friend ol’ pal?”

Marie didn’t bother meeting her gaze this time, instead running a hand over her tired face. She had to go and record soon, and she didn’t have the energy for dealing with Pearl on top of that. The meeting had been draining enough, and Marie still didn’t feel like her attendance had been particularly vital to that. She could have just slept more…

“Sorry if you’re, like, still mad at me for what happened before.”

That caught Marie’s attention, at least, and she finally regarded Pearl with another blank look. She was far too aware that this was the first time she’d been alone with Pearl since the big mission in the base, many weeks ago. “Oh, no, I _love_ being attacked and held hostage.”

Pearl stared at her with wide eyes. “… You do? That’s kinda weird—”

“I was _being sarcastic_ ,” Marie interrupted, shooting Pearl a fierce glare when she realised that _wasn’t_ sarcasm. This sure wasn’t making her any less upset at her.

“… Ohh! Oh. Ha ha, I really had ya for a minute there with my funny joke, you see,” Pearl nodded with a grin, and Marie had to resist the urge to smack her own forehead. Or Pearl. Definitely leaning towards Pearl. “I’m just saying, it might have _indirectly_ been my fault, just a little. Like, maybe two percent more my fault than yours.”

“If this is your way of apologising, you’re doing a terrible job,” Marie muttered, keeping her glare fixed on the ground for now. Being humiliated was not in her book of acceptable apologies.

Pearl let out an overdramatic huff. “Okay, fine, like… _ten_ percent more. That’s my best offer. Take it or leave it.”

Thankfully, Marina and Callie were done with their conversation by that point, and emerged from the room just in time to save Marie from her suffering. “I’ll keep an eye out, but I don’t think there’s anything you need to worry about,” Marina assured, an ending to the rest of the conversation which Marie had stopped listening to a few lines in. “Alright, I think we’re done. Pearlie, we should get back to the main studio.”

“Oh yeah! We got a news update in, like, ten minutes.” Pearl hopped forward from her self-proclaimed guard position before taking off at an impressive speed. “Last one there’s a sea slug!”

Callie looked about to race after her, before giving a quiet “oh wait I don’t work here” of realisation and a shrug. Marina just chuckled at her girlfriend’s jibe. “I’ll be a sea slug, then.”

Marie followed after them, wishing she’d just bailed when she had the chance instead of being subjected to a few minutes of Pearl. “Marina, I say this with absolutely no ill intention,” she said quietly when she was sure Pearl was out of earshot. “But how on earth do you put up with her on a regular basis?”

Marina gave her a look of confusion, and mild concern, before her gaze fell on Pearl. “Did something happen?”

“You could say that.”

“Ah. I’m sorry Pearl isn’t always the easiest to get along with,” Marina said with a half-hearted smile. “She tries her best, though. She can be stubborn, but I know if she ever does anything that _does_ upset me, I can talk to her about it, and she’ll make her best efforts to be sure it doesn’t happen again. That’s one of the many reasons I love her so much.” Her smile became a lot brighter at that.

Marie ignored the face Callie was making at her from Marina’s other side, a big-eyed one like she had utterly stifled an ‘ _aww_!’ as to not make Marina feel embarrassed about expressing affection for her girlfriend. “I think I get where you’re coming from.” She gave a small smile of her own, because it _was_ pretty sweet how strong Pearl and Marina’s relationship was. Marie couldn’t see herself wanting to befriend Pearl any time soon, but there was a small part of her speech that reminded her a little of someone else… “Sorry for, y’know, complaining about your girlfriend.”

“Oh, trust me, you’re nowhere near the first person to butt heads with Pearlie.” Marina gave a small laugh. “I’d better get going, but it was nice to see the both of you again!”

“You too!” Callie beamed as the two cousins waved her off. Once Marina was out of earshot, she turned her grin to Marie instead. “They’re so sweet! I hope someday I have a partner who cares about me as much as they do each other.”

_So, a healthy relationship, then?_ Marie didn’t point out Callie’s low standards, but at least they weren’t any lower. “Yeah… me too, I guess. As long as they’re not Pearl in the body of another person.”

“Hmm, well, I think Faye does share a _few_ traits, like being stubborn…” Callie jokingly counted off on her fingers.

“Shush! First of all, no, she doesn’t like me like that.” _I think._ Marie gave her another gentle shove, as if that would really make her drop the subject. “Second, please never compare her to Pearl again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pearl is trying her best but she is simply too good at causing problems


	17. Fish Out of Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warnings: a dead animal ??

It was a day later, when she hauled a bucket of water and a sponge out to her bike’s current resting place, that Margin realised she had hit a real issue, an incredible pickle, an absolute conundrum.

There was no fuel left in it, and it needed fuel in order to work, and the only way she could get more… was to ask Marina.

_UUUGHHHHHHHH_.

This was the absolute worst realisation in her entire life, save for a few others. Margin scrubbed at the muddy frame with more aggression than necessary as she tried to think of any possible way around it, but came up with nothing. Would Marina suspect anything if she found out Margin had used an entire tank already? It wasn’t as if Marina had told her she _couldn’t_ travel outside of the city limits, but there were so many weird, specific rules she kept coming up with, Margin wouldn’t be surprised if she changed her mind, especially if it was brought to her attention.

It was so difficult to tell what Marina wanted – but Margin had finally managed to get to her yesterday, somehow, so that was something. She would slip up eventually, and reveal her true nature, and Margin would find out what she was trying to do in the first place.

Margin tossed the sponge into the bucket of filthy water. Her bike now looked _almost_ in the same state it had been in a few days ago, save for a few scuffs on the frame from when she’d fallen off. There wasn’t anything she could do about those, so she’d just have to hope Marina didn’t notice.

Why did everything always have to depend on _Marina_!?

Feeling a fresh wave of anger course through her veins, Margin swung at the metal pail with one foot, splashing its contents across the nearby plants and causing it to clang loudly against a root, spitting out the sponge with a quiet _splap_. _That’s what I think about you, Marina. You’re the water. Or the sponge. Perhaps both. Maybe the bucket?_ Would she kick Marina? Probably, if the situation called for it.

Well, at least she didn’t have to empty the bucket now.

With an exasperated sigh, lamenting still over how much she absolutely despised one octoling in particular even if there were certain other people, namely inklings, she definitely hated more, Margin collected the bucket and sponge, and wondered if she should try to find a river or something to wash them off in. The sponge was just one she’d taken from the kitchens, and it definitely shouldn’t be used to clean plates anymore… the bucket she’d found in the janitor closet, though, so she should probably return it no matter what state it was in. If someone decided to report all this to Marina, she’d just say that she was cleaning her bike off because it was dusty after riding around the mountains, and hopefully that would be a good enough excuse to fool her.

Fooling Marina would have to be her plan for now, if she wanted to be able to use her bike again – and perhaps that would help in general, too, because maybe Marina would stop going after her if she thought Margin was starting to trust her.

That didn’t mean she had to be _nice_ to her, though. Marina would have to settle for ‘polite’, because that was the best she was going to get.

* * *

Today was the day. It was the beginning of league season, and Eight couldn’t decide if she was excited or terrified.

Her hair twitched with nerves, and every minute or so she had to uncurl one of the tentacles from her ear as they uncomfortably wound their way around one. She didn’t know what to expect, even though logically it wouldn’t be much different than the team practice she’d been doing for weeks now – but with lots of added _pressure_. What if she played badly because of that? There were almost _two_ _months_ for her to have to play well for, and that was so much time! They could fit so many matches into that time! That was so many possible opportunities for her to do badly!

“Eight? Earth to Eight? Which one do you wanna look at first?”

The insistent use of her name grounded her, and she found herself staring at Harper for a moment and trying to remember what they’d actually been doing. Eight was waiting for the rest of her team to get here, because she’d set off far too early and the others were either running errands or recovering from a night shift (Mercedes), and Harper had magnetised to her standing alone in the lobby because that’s what Harper just seemed to do. Her team was scattered by work and classes today, and with Rollo being the only remaining one of her team who didn’t have either of those, Harper had been ready to fling herself into ranked to warm up, until she’d delayed her plans slightly to accompany Eight while she waited instead.

Oh yeah, that was what she was talking about. Ranked. Rank X leaderboards from January were up right now, as it was the first of the next month. “Um…” Eight looked at the icons on the screen in front of them. “Clam blitz…?”

“ _Excellent_ choice,” Harper nodded wisely, perhaps thinking Eight had actually made a calculated decision rather than just choosing the first one on the list because they were in alphabetical order. The list of names appeared on the screen when she tapped it, and immediately Harper’s eyes lit up. “Look! There!” Harper jabbed a finger at the screen, bouncing excitedly. “That’s me! I did it!”

Eight fought to see what she was pointing out without accidentally getting smacked in all of Harper’s enthusiasm, but eventually she managed to view what was being pointed at; _GD_Harper_ as third place on the list, under two other names she didn’t recognise. “Oh! You did very well this month.”

“I _did_!” Harper was still rocking on her heels. “Maybe one day I’ll get in the top position, but still! Third is _really_ high up!” Settling at last, she rubbed her hands together. “Alright, let’s look at the others before your team gets here.”

There were no familiar names in the top ten for rainmaker, although the person in first place did have an impressively high score, and Eight wondered if they had a team they’d be taking part in the league tournament with. Rollo was in fifth for splat zones, followed by Delilah in seventh, and Eight was reminded yet again just how powerful Harper’s team was. They were going to go far in the tournament, for sure.

“Hey, Eight. You’re here early.” Mercedes emerged from somewhere within the crowd behind them, the heavy splatling case weighing on her shoulders. She held her pilot goggles, not wearing them yet and instead twirling the strap around her hands. “Ready for league?”

“I think so,” Eight nodded, trying to work out if Mercedes looked nervous about the tournament or whether she just hadn’t been awake for long.

She didn’t get to contemplate her thoughts for long as Harper suddenly grabbed her arm, giving an insistent shake. “Eight! Look, look! It’s _you_!”

“Me?” Eight was confused and a little disoriented from being shaken. Yes, she sure was herself. What was Harper talking about? She was doing the pointing-at-the-screen thing again, so Eight followed her gesture to find out what Harper wanted her to see.

_¤-Eight_

That… was her? On the top ten list for tower control? What?

Mercedes leaned over to see what they were looking at. “The leaderboards…? Oh! Well done, Eight.” She patted her shoulder. “You even managed to get eighth place. You get extra credit for that one.”

Eight did not know what that meant. She was still staring at the screen in amazement. She made it into the top ten? Of _everyone_?

“People are gonna see you there, in eighth place with the name Eight, and be like, wooo, spooky, she could tell the _future_ and knew what place she would get!” Harper waved her hands in a ghostly manner. “And then they’ll see you in the tournament and be intimidated because what if you _know_ their _every_ _moves_ even before _they’ve_ thought of them! That is an _excellent_ tactic. Getting _right_ into their minds. Throw them off their game.”

“Y’know, Harper, sometimes I honestly cannot tell if you are being sarcastic or not.” Mercedes raised an eyebrow at her, but there was a look of amusement in her eyes, especially as Harper just stuck her tongue out rudely in response. “Is… your team here? Are you doing placement matches too?”

“Whuh…? Oh, nah, Dee’s at work and Ada’s got… a class about something with lots of syllables.” Harper shook her head. “I mean, I’m gonna do placement matches, but like, for X Rank. Not league. I gotta warm up my dualie muscles for the tournament!” She made a flexing motion – not that it showed much, because Harper was too small and lean to be muscular. “Speaking of, clam blitz is in _one_ minute and I wanna fight my way back to the top for February!”

Harper was gone in the blink of an eye, barely giving Eight the chance to give a delayed wave of farewell which might not have even been noticed.

“Harper got into a top ten too, huh?” Mercedes asked absently, taking Harper’s place in front of the screen and tapping through the results – and frowning for just a moment as her gaze passed over the splat zones leader board.

“She got third in clam blitz,” Eight informed her.

“Wow.” There was a little enthusiasm in Mercedes’ voice, but it sounded forced, even more so because Harper wasn’t actually here to hear it now. “Lyla’s team is pretty strong. I doubt we’ll end up in a match against them after placements are over.”

That… wasn’t something Eight had been particularly worried about, although thinking back and remembering how coldly Delilah had acted towards her, she didn’t feel too keen about facing her when she had a weapon. The thought seemed to have unsettled Mercedes, and Eight didn’t know if she would be a better friend to try and say something supportive despite not knowing all the circumstances, or to say something completely different as a distraction.

Chance and Arty arrived before she could decide. Mercedes backed out of the leaderboards and went to another screen to sign them in for the tournament. Eight heard Chance mutter a quiet “you okay?” to her, but didn’t catch Mercedes’ reply.

Eight didn’t have long to lament on the slight guilt she felt, because soon they were heading for the match teleporters, and by then Mercedes _seemed_ to be alright. She was back to being their team leader; checking everyone was prepared, running over the vague team plans they had without knowing who their opponents were yet, making sure everyone had eaten something today (a question Arty threw back at her, the one who had been awake for the least of the day thus far).

“If we win, cool. If we lose, we analyse what we did and learn,” she stated. “We do our best and see where we end up.”

“And if we lose a bunch, we get a fun movie night watching our battle replays on SplatNet,” Arty said with a grin, tapping his H3 against his palm in anticipation for the matches ahead.

“That’s the _right_ attitude!” Mercedes gave an overzealous point in his direction. “Let’s see what league throws at us.”

League threw many things at them for those first seven matches. There were all sorts of teams and weapons, some noticeably stronger than others, and some with weapons Eight had rarely seen in ranked. Some teams had rather strange team compositions, and one in particular didn’t seem to be communicating with each other very well, as if the four of them had gathered together for the tournament as complete strangers, and then… there was another team where all four of them donned the Fresh Fish outfit sold at the gift stores of Wahoo World. Eight couldn’t tell which one she was fighting at any given time, since they were all using the NZAP-’85 and half the time were caked in ink armour, but Mace managed to be victorious. Evidently, not everyone was trying to reach the finals; some of them just wanted to be memorable.

They finished placement matches with seven wins under their belt, and gathered around the screen in the lobby as it showed them their first calculated power; 2243.

“That’s—okay, that’s, um, higher than I expected?” Chance said, his voice coming out an octave higher than usual from the surprise.

Arty pulled out his phone, quickly navigating one of the apps. Once he found what he was looking for, he turned the screen to them with a look of awe. “We’re in ninth place overall!”

“We did pretty good,” Mercedes assured with a half-hearted smile and a tone in her voice that suggested there was a catch, which was quickly added. “It’s only the first day, though. More teams will be doing their placement matches later, and we’ll have a lot more competition.”

“Hey, we still won all our matches today, and I’d say that’s _pretty_ good,” Arty gave her arm a nudge, and Mercedes managed a smile at that. “Right, Eight?”

“Hm? Oh! Yes, we did do very well,” Eight nodded, glad for the positive atmosphere they were holding up. “Does this mean we do not get movie night?”

“We can still learn from watching what we did, even if we won,” Mercedes said wisely, but smiled a moment later. “So yeah, why not? We can get pizza and everything. I’d say we deserve it.”

* * *

It was a very long and impatient few days. Margin tried to busy herself by getting her rank higher, but any time she went into the square it was always so _crowded_ because of the tournament. She would glare at the advertisement on the screens above the lobby whenever it looked too stuffy inside, feeling a burning hatred at the Squid Sisters displayed on screen. They were inconveniencing her yet again, even for something as simple as trying to get into a rainmaker match.

She huddled in a corner of the square, out of prying eyes, and jotted down all the information the advertisements gave. Whether this was information she could use for anything, or just knowledge of what main days to stay away from the city, she had yet to see.

Every time she looked in her notebook, she would find herself turning back to the dusty pages where she’d sketched out that fish-beast. There was a whole other world out there, with no crowds or tournaments or _inklings_ , and there was a part of her that longed to just go out and explore more of it. Perhaps going into that forest again was a bad idea, with countless mutant beasts and some kind of strong radiation emanating from it, but there was plenty else in the surrounding area that clearly nobody had touched in years, decades, maybe even centuries.

If she wanted to go _anywhere_ , though, she needed more fuel. Margin suppressed her craving for adventure for as long as she could, trying to think what the best and least-suspicious way to ask Marina for more fuel was. In the meantime, she avoided her as best she could whenever the older octoling visited the hotel. It wasn’t uncommon for Margin to spend most of the time in her room, and Marina didn’t try to bother her at all, not without anything to alert her suspicions. That, to Margin, was more proof that her kindness was just a façade.

Finally, after a week confined to wherever on the mountain her legs would take her, Margin decided she couldn’t wait any longer, and approached Marina on one of her semi-regular visits, once she was done talking to the others and making lists of anything they didn’t have. Margin did not know how to handle a full conversation, or at what point Marina would actually start to get suspicious, so left it at a curt “my bike’s out of fuel”.

Marina gave a small smile at that, and nodded. “Alright, I’ll see about getting some more for you.”

And that was it. That was it? Maybe Marina had just been in a hurry that day, and at first Margin had wondered if she agreed so easily just so that Margin wouldn’t make a fuss, but when Marina next visited, she did in fact bring fuel. She still wanted to fill the tank herself, of course, and Margin was absolutely going to keep a close eye on her when she did that, but that was all far easier than she had expected.

“Looks like you’ve gained a few scrapes,” Marina noticed as she ran a hand over the bike’s frame as if it were an animal that needed soothing. She looked down at Margin and raised an eyebrow. “Are you _sure_ you didn’t crash?”

“It just fell over,” Margin replied curtly, before quickly realising Marina would be able to tell that wasn’t the case. “… While moving. And _maybe_ I was on it at the time, but I didn’t get hurt and I was wearing a helmet and I did your silly form-change thing like you wanted me to, so everything is _fine_.”

Marina frowned, just a little, but her expression returned neutral a moment later. “Well, as long as you weren’t hurt – and you know to be more careful now.”

_I sure do_. “Yeah. I’ll be careful.”

“Good.” Marina gave a surprised-looking smile, probably expecting Margin to argue with her more. It looked like the plan of fooling her was working already. That was nice.

Margin returned to her room until Marina’s motorbike vanished from the hotel courtyard, just to make sure she wouldn’t be questioning her every move. Then she stuffed her notebook and phone into her backpack, hesitating briefly when her eyes rested on the case for her kensa splattershot which lay beside her bed. She couldn’t carry the case and her backpack at the same time, but there _were_ some dangerous things out there and a weapon would be useful, even if it was one created solely for sports…

Making up her mind, she took the splattershot from its case and just about managed to fit it into her bag. Hopefully if she needed it she would have some fair warning beforehand. She suddenly found herself deeply regretting the fact that Marina had taken away the taser Octavio entrusted her with, but there was no way Marina would politely return it to her if she asked, and it was unlikely the other few octoling soldiers who had possession of them before had smuggled them up here to the surface.

With her bag now packed, Margin only made a brief detour into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water before she left, just on the off-chance she ended up stranded in a cave for hours again. She didn’t plan on letting that happen, but _just_ _in_ _case_. Margin left the hotel and made a beeline for her bike, extra conscious of all her surroundings as she looked out for any sign that Marina might have put spies on her after all – but as far as she could tell, there was nothing.

Passing between the spires of the barrier was less intimidating now she’d already done it twice, and the dark spindly pillars remained silent and ominous as she did so today. All that remained in front of her now was the open space, the hills and farms and dusty paths, and without the crushing distress and anger pressing on her shoulders this time, it looked so much more _free_. There was a whole world out here to explore, with a real sky and fresh air, and no travel limitations like the octarian domes, and for the first time Margin found herself actually, truly _liking_ the surface, excited to see what more it could offer.

She couldn’t get distracted, though. She still had a job to do. Even if she was the only one of Octavio’s soldiers who remained loyal to him, that made her role ever more important. She could go out and explore, but at the end of the day she would return to the octolings, she would make sure Marina didn’t do anything with them, she would make sure that when Octavio _did_ return that there would still _be_ something for him to return to.

Would he be proud of her for staying loyal to him throughout everything, or disappointed that she hadn’t managed to get everyone else under her control for him?

The growling of her bike’s engine lessened a little as she let go of the accelerator, mulling over this thought for a moment. There wasn’t much she could do about the other octolings anymore, not with Marina getting in the way. She would just… have to find something else she could do to make up for that. Heck, maybe she could find some way to take out Agent 3. Octavio would definitely appreciate that, but not as much as Margin would herself.

Besides, no matter what Marina did to the others, Margin still had Miles. He would stick by her side no matter what. Sure, sometimes he made some silly decisions, but he was the only one who _believed_ Margin, the only one who understood her, and that kept him safe. Psychologically, at least.

Margin kicked her bike up a gear, smiling at the satisfying roar it let out as she sped across the vaguely-familiar land. She had passed this way before, and while she didn’t know if she wanted to stick to the _exact_ same path, she did have a destination in mind.

After driving for the best part of an hour, making the occasional stop to take her notebook out and scribble down landmarks just to make absolutely sure she could find her way back again even though she’d managed fine last time, Margin finally caught sight of the overgrown forest in the distance. It wasn’t directly in front of her this time, so she must have made a slight turn somewhere, but she soon made her way to the top of the hill with the last view she’d seen of this place. There was no sign of the monster that had tried to eat her before, but she could see the canyon, the old bridge, and the large crack in one of the overhangs where she’d hidden. This was absolutely the right place.

Now, she just… wanted to look around a little. Margin switched off her bike’s engine, using gravity and her brakes to descend the smooth hill, and finally dismounted when the blank earth gave way to the ancient ruins of the town that littered the canyon side. Everything here was silent, but even so, she took the weapon out of her bag. _Just_ _in_ _case_.

This place was definitely very old, and very, _very_ much abandoned, but Margin wasn’t a talented enough historian to be able to tell if this village had been built after the quake that caused the river’s canyon to open up, or whether that was the reason it had fallen to ruin in the first place. Whoever had once lived here must have abandoned it on account of there being what she could only assume was a pretty dangerous source of radiation in the nearby forest.

Hmm. Maybe she didn’t particularly want to stay here too long after all. She would probably be fine as long as she didn’t go much closer, and if those things could survive over there, it clearly wasn’t _completely_ one-hundred-percent deadly, right?

She meandered around the old village, where occasionally the remnants of an old path would show up, but for the most part everything was just dusty walls and buildings that no longer provided shelter as their rooves had caved in eons ago. Margin looked into a few of them, but there wasn’t much left other than rubble and the occasional piece of collapsed furniture. Perhaps the earthquake had been what took this village out after all, but on the bright side, there didn’t seem to be any sign of biological remains. It wasn’t like whoever lived here had _died_ here, which made it significantly less eerie.

Margin glanced into another building, where half of one of the walls had collapsed but the roof wasn’t entirely gone, casting half of the ancient room in shadow. It wasn’t until a second later that she realised the shadows were _moving_.

It was the fish-beast. It shifted, a quiet grumble emanating from its body.

Margin did not stick around.

_Oh no oh no oh no where is my bike where did I put it oh cod oh no IT’S STILL HERE!_ Her thoughts were a mess of panic as she bolted back through the ruins, panic running through her veins because she’d strayed too far.

Her bike was too far away.

She couldn’t outrun it.

It was… not following her.

Margin realised, after a good thirty seconds of sheer panic, that she could not in fact hear the thundering footsteps of a giant monster chasing after her – which was weird, because she’d been able to hear that over the sound of her bike engine before, and the only noise here was the quiet whistling of the wind through the old buildings.

She finally slowed to a halt, turning to look behind her, and didn’t see it at all. She couldn’t hear any sign of movement, just her slightly laboured breathing after running so fast. Where did it go? Was it stalking her with a stealth it hadn’t previously revealed? There were plenty of places for it to hide.

Her bike was within view from where she was now, and she could get to it easily within a few seconds if she ran fast. Perhaps it was in her best interest to do that, to get out of here before she could _actually_ become this thing’s lunch.

And yet…

Margin swallowed her fear, getting a more firm grip on her splattershot as she tried to stop her hands from shaking. She was not _afraid_ of this thing. She was one of Octavio’s best soldiers, she couldn’t have _fear_. “Hey!” she shouted, hearing her voice echo around the smooth rocks of the ruins. “What, you’re not going to try and kill me today!?”

Nothing. No responding growls or whines or whatever other noises that thing was capable of making. It had reacted so strongly to the smallest sound before.

“What, you think it’s funny to humiliate me? You’re not even going to _try_?” It probably couldn’t understand her words in the first place, but now she did feel quite embarrassed for panicking so easily when there was no actual threat. “Thank you, I _really_ _love_ feeling like an _idiot_.”

Still nothing. Against her better judgement, Margin took one last look at her bike, then cautiously made her way back through the village. She made a mental note of every path, every crack in the rubble she would probably be able to fit through, just in case the monster _did_ change its mind and decide it wanted to hunt some octoling after all.

The broken building it had been in loomed up ahead, and Margin took a deep breath – ugh, dusty – before steeling herself, getting a good position on the weapon in her arms and sidling up to the large hole in the wall. She peered in, slowly, expecting to see nothing and then have to go into full alert mode because nowhere would be safe.

It was still there, though. It hadn’t moved. Margin remained still as a statue while her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the sheltered building. She’d already seen it move once, and now she could see that its chest was rising and falling, so it was definitely alive still. Was it asleep? Maybe it was just asleep, and that was why it hadn’t chased her just now. Her running in fear and also shouting across the village hadn’t woken it up. She should probably get out of here before something did.

Then she realised its tiny eyes were open, and blinking occasionally. It was staring at her from where it lay across the floor in the shadows, splayed out on its side, its forked tongue lolling out of its mouth.

“What _are_ you doing?” Margin scoffed at it, keeping her voice low because this place was far too quiet. She was poised and ready to make a run for it if she needed to.

The thing didn’t react much, just blinked again and licked at the front of its jaw. Its eyes didn’t look particularly lively, but it was very hard to tell, since it was some kind of freaky monster.

“You better not be doing some kind of weird trick.” She threatened it by pointing her splattershot at it, but it didn’t seem to care. It probably didn’t know what a weapon was. Would ink even work on a beast like this in the first place if it _did_ decide to attack? Probably not, but having a weapon still made her feel better.

Something was clearly wrong with it, though, because it definitely hadn’t looked this sad and lethargic before. Margin wondered if this was some kind of effect from the rotten fruit it had eaten before – and if so, good riddance – but also… it definitely looked a lot more _dry_ than the last time she’d seen it, especially its tongue. Was it just dehydrated? Was that _it_?

It _was_ from the forest, and the place where Margin had seen most of those things was right by a river, but they were _also_ right by a river out here, and it wasn’t as if there was any reason for that thing to have stayed out here. “You really are a stupid creature,” Margin muttered, yet again to no response. She was _not_ going to feel bad for this thing. Even if it did look very pathetic right now, and it might have been _slightly_ her fault.

“ _Ugghhh_ , you really _are_ worse than Marina,” she groaned eventually, rolling her eyes and finally turning to leave.

There was a perfectly good river for it to drink from! Margin dared venture closer to the canyon to look, just in case the whole thing had somehow managed to dry up in the past week, but she soon saw that the water was still there. It wasn’t even all that deep – for something three times her size – or fast-moving, and there were probably enough ledges sticking out the side of the canyon for something of its agility to climb down and back up again. “You are a _fish_! You can _swim_!”

Although, when she glanced over the edge of the canyon, she realised her theory might have been a little incorrect.

There was something down there, against one of the tiny beaches the river in the canyon created at the base of the cliffs. Margin realised, very quickly, that it was the other creature that had been chasing after her, the more lizard-like one with very long claws. Unlike the one in the building, this one did not seem to be moving at all, and it lay curled and motionless against the rocks. It didn’t appear to have any kind of injuries, that Margin could see from a distance, and there was no blood around it – which meant it must have drowned.

“Okay! You cannot swim. I see,” Margin said aloud, as if the creature would hear or understand her semi-apology. In its current state, it probably wouldn’t be able to drag itself back to the forest, which was the nearest _safe_ water source.

Did she really care what happened to this thing? It was just a stupid mutant monster that had tried to kill her. There were certain others she could think of who had done the same thing, save the ‘mutant’ part, and she definitely would leave them to shrivel up in dehydration without a second thought.

Agent 3 wasn’t a feral beast, though. This shark-mutant had chased her because it was hungry and _hunting_ , which was what wild animals tended to do, according to the books in the library. Agent 3 was just cruel and heartless, no matter what anyone else seemed to think about her. The freaky monster could get a pass.

After a quick search of a few of the ancient buildings, Margin found something that was either a rather flat bowl or close enough to function as one, and dusted it off with one sleeve before she carried it back to the sole occupied structure. “You better _appreciate_ all this effort I am going to,” she huffed, raising her voice a little more this time as she rummaged through her bag on the flat ground outside the walls. She wouldn’t be able to get any of the river water without some kind of rope, and anything like that would _not_ have lasted the years out here like this old piece of clay, so instead she took a quick swig from her own bottle before pouring most of the rest into the bowl.

When she picked it up, careful not to spill any, and caught sight of the creature again, the fins at the side of its head had flared up a little at the sound of water. It lifted its head off the ground slowly as she approached, its little eyes watching her.

“Here you go, you creepy thing,” Margin scorned at it, placing the bowl on the ground a short distance from it and pushing it cautiously forward with one hand, because she didn’t particularly want to get too far into _being eaten_ range.

The monster let out a crackly garbled sound, rejuvenated just a little by the sight of water when it was so dehydrated, and almost knocked the bowl over as it tried to plunge its snout into it. It didn’t have quite the ability to gulp down liquids that, say, an octoling would, but even just by lapping it up with its tongue the bowl was empty within a minute. When it was done, it lay there, its head still held low but looking more alive as it licked at the remaining droplets around its mouth so that none went to waste.

Then it looked at _her_ , and Margin froze from slowly taking steps back. The creature dipped its head back into the bowl for a moment, lapping at any remaining traces of moisture, before it finally made its first attempt to push itself up.

It probably hadn’t eaten in days either. It was probably only alive still because of the rain. Margin did not fancy her chances with a starving hungry beast, especially after her last encounter. She hopped out through the hole in the wall, snatching her bag and weapon from the ground.

An annoyingly embarrassing yelp of fear escaped her when the creature’s snout appeared in her vision again, and she darted a few metres away. The beast didn’t seem in any rush, stepping carefully over the small part of the building’s wall that was actually still there – and it was limping, still. It looked at Margin again, making a quiet nonsensical sound.

Well, it didn’t sound hostile, but Margin didn’t trust it. It wasn’t making any attempt to lunge at her, or chase after her, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t – and it might have only _not_ been doing that because it was injured. Still, that did mean she could probably _actually_ outrun it, especially when it wasn’t recovered from the dehydration yet. That wouldn’t wear off immediately just from half a bottle of water.

“What do you _want_?” She spoke sternly to it, and it tilted its head – like it knew she was trying to communicate, somehow, but didn’t understand what exactly. Perhaps it wasn’t quite as stupid as she thought. “Go on. Shoo. Go back to your forest home.” She made a vague waving hand motion at it. Maybe it would understand that. “There’s more water there! And… I guess food, if you like to eat dead birds and fruit.”

The thing let out another quiet grumble. It took another limping step towards her.

“Not _me_! I am not the food.” Margin waved her hands in front of her this time, and whether the creature actually understood that as a ‘stop’ or was just slightly intimidated, she couldn’t tell. At least it worked. Did it not want to eat her? Perhaps it expected her to give it more rotten fruit. “I do not have the food. The food is over there.” She gestured in the direction of the forest. It turned its head briefly, but went back to watching her a second later. Margin deflated a little with a sigh. “Okay, fine. I guess I will have to show you the way there myself, but I am not going anywhere _near_ that place. You have friends.”

She marched back towards the bridge, and the beast pricked up its head-fins – ears? Were those ears? It was hard to tell – and limped slowly after her, its finned tail dragging on the ground. Margin kept an eye on it at all times, ready to run if it decided that she would in fact be a tasty snack, but to her surprise it followed obediently. She stopped just shy of the end of the bridge, taking a few steps aside and motioning across it. “There. Home. Go on. We can pretend all of this never happened.”

The creature looked to where she was pointing, observing the bridge that stretched out in front of it. Its fins flattened back against its neck, and it took a step back, letting out a sound that resembled a whimper.

“… You’re scared of the bridge. Really?” Margin gave it a deadpan look. “Look, just ‘cause your friend fell off and died doesn’t mean it’s not safe.” She rolled her eyes, taking a few steps onto the stone structure. “See? Not scary.” She was definitely not as heavy as a moderately-sized fish monster, so she jumped a few times just for extra emphasis on the fact that the bridge was very safe and would not collapse.

She heard something shift. One of the stones, maybe.

Margin hurried back to the safety of the hard earth before the bridge could decide to prove her wrong. “Aaand, as I was saying, your friend fell off and died, so perhaps it’s reasonable that you are afraid.” Well, at least she knew why it was still on this side of the canyon now. She rubbed her hands together, which were still a little dusty from handling that bowl, and watched the creature. It watched her back. “You’re not going to try and eat me, then? Not even a little?”

It mumbled at her words, flicking its tongue over its snout again like it thought it might find some leftover water. If it did want to eat her, it currently had the perfect opportunity to try, while one of her escape routes was blocked off by a giant canyon of doom and death, but instead it just… _watched_ her.

“I don’t speak monster,” she responded to its noise. It certainly looked like it was expecting _something_. Maybe it just didn’t want to stay here on its own, in a place with no food or water that also now came with a free corpse in a ditch. That didn’t sound like the kind of place Margin would want to live. “Okay, _fine_ , you can follow me for a little while and we can find somewhere better for you to live.”

It didn’t know what she said, but it followed after her anyway. Margin walked at a brusque speed, stopping every now and then because that was slightly faster than this thing’s limping-and-weakened walking pace. Once she reached her bike, she decided to walk with it for now, because stopping every few seconds while riding sounded like both a pain and a sure way to waste her limited fuel.

She led the way to the top of the hill from before, and looked out to the horizon in front of her. Where was a good place for a mutant shark monster? Probably somewhere as far from civilisation as possible, because if this thing started eating _people_ it was definitely going to cause some problems. There were a couple of buildings in the far distance in one direction, and what looked like some trees in another, but only a few of them this time, unlike the forest where this thing had come from. That was a good start.

It took a lot longer walking than it would have done to ride her bike there, but _eventually_ they reached the trees; it was just a few of them and a couple of dry-looking bushes in the middle of all this empty land, but there was a small pool of water amongst them all. The mutant creature was starting to look very tired after all this walking, but it had kept following her regardless, and when it saw the water it hobbled forward a few faster steps, almost falling into the pool as it collapsed next to it to drink.

“You poor, sad thing,” Margin muttered, feeling a little silly for sympathising with it after their last encounter. There didn’t seem to be a whole lot to eat here, but leaves were probably a step above rocks and dirt on the edibility scale. At least it had a source of water now. She took a last, long look at the creature, before shrugging and deciding she was free to leave now. Her job here was done. Well, more like a kind-hearted errand than a job. Her desire for exploration was more than satiated for the day.

The beast let out a quiet murmur, heaving itself back to its feet and ready to follow after her again. Margin gave it a confused look and tried to replicate the stop-hand-motion she’d done earlier, probably with some slight deviation. “No. Stay. Bad boy. Girl? I don’t know.” She shook her head. “No follow. You live here until you get over your bridge-phobia.”

It tilted its head in confusion, and tried to take another step forward.

“No,” she repeated, more firmly this time, holding one hand out towards it. A small thought crossed her mind, that she was definitely within range now if it decided it wanted to lunge and take a meaty chunk out of her arm, but it didn’t try. Instead, it simply backed down, giving her a sad look as it lowered itself back to the ground beside its new water bowl.

Margin watched it do that, a little surprised, but tried not to let it show. She couldn’t let the probably-insentient monster know that she experienced emotions. It might get jealous. “… Okay. Good.” She finally turned to leave, climbing back onto her bike, and while the thing did not try to follow her, it did continue to watch her. _Do not feel bad for the sad lonely creature._ “… Alright. Bye. Maybe we’ll meet again.”

As she drove away, casting the occasional glance back just to make sure the beast was _actually_ staying where it was, Margin decided that she was absolutely, definitely going to have to make this journey again in a few days. She had somehow managed to tame some kind of weird feral creature? By giving it a bowl of water?

The surface was crazier than she could have ever imagined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fish friend fish friend
> 
> fun fact: the fresh fish team is based on a time me and some friends went into league with the outfits & n-zaps, except we didn't actually fight because we were trying to see how low we could get our league power to be haha


	18. Names and Faces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings for this chapter: Bird Corpse

It was February 11th when the first octoling moved out.

Miles didn’t know Lance well enough to feel like he would miss him personally, but there was a strange hollowness knowing that their little community in the hotel would not last forever; it was a temporary place until they could find somewhere to settle on their own, in the city or elsewhere. The first person leaving felt like a small chip in a pane of glass; a crack that would grow wider over time and eventually cause it to shatter.

A large percentage of the octolings had gathered outside the old hotel to wish Lance farewell and good luck for the future, but Miles was not among them, watching instead from Margin’s room as she glared at the little ceremony through the foggy glass of her window. It was no surprise that she of all people was angry about this, but in all honesty, Miles _was_ a little surprised she hadn’t stormed down there to complain.

“ **Maybe that’s Marina’s real plan** ,” she muttered quietly, narrowing her eyes at the aforementioned octoling who was helping with all of this. “ **She’s going to pick us off one by one. Eventually there’ll be none of us left to oppose her.** ”

Miles just bit the inside of his cheek, sitting on his knees on the bed and wishing he’d brought something with him to tinker with, because he was starting to get fidgety from just sitting here for so long and he didn’t want to leave, because that would probably make Margin upset. If he said anything disagreeing with her, that would also most likely make her upset, and that was something he did not want. “ **Maybe** ,” he said eventually, figuring she expected some kind of response.

“ **If nobody will listen to me, then it’s their own fault for believing her.** ” Margin glared with such ferocity that Miles half expected the window to shatter just from a look, but she turned her back before any such superpower could awaken. “ **She won’t get us.** ”

“ **Yeah** ,” Miles responded absently, watching as the car pulled out of the hotel courtyard, leading one of their former comrades to a new life. What would Lance be doing every day now? What kind of place would he live in? Would he wake up every day and think about all of them, or would his past get brushed into the same part of his memory that held things such as yesterday’s breakfast? He must have obtained a job of some kind, because to live in the city you needed _money_ and a constant source of it. What kind of job did he have? Was it enjoyable, or something he would dread with every moment spent doing it because he never knew what it might become?

Miles was lost deep within his own curious-but-anxious thoughts and hadn’t noticed that Margin was now standing. “ **Come on. Move. I gotta lock my door.** ”

“ **Huh? What?** ” He blinked at her with a look of confusion, but did as she asked anyway, more out of habit than anything else.

“ **I _said_ I’m going out**,” Margin stated with the harsh tone of voice that meant he’d messed something up, and he instinctively flinched away. “ **So hurry up, or I’m locking you in here.** ”

“ **Okay, okay**.” Miles followed closely after her as she left the room, not sure if that was a legitimate threat or not. He wouldn’t put it past her. “ **Where are you going**?”

“ **Out**.”

“ **Yeah, I mean—out where**?” Hopefully she wouldn’t think too much into why he was asking.

“ **Somewhere. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter**.” Margin’s response was so vague, it almost sounded suspicious – but she was probably just irritated by the events of the day thus far and wanted to get away from here for a while, which would also explain it.

That also meant she probably _wasn’t_ going into the city. Unless she wanted to take out her anger in turf war, which was definitely a possibility, but if Miles tried to probe for any more details, she was almost certainly going to get prickly with him, and then she would start suspecting things, and the worst part was she’d be _right_. “ **Okay. See you later**?”

“ **Sure**.”

Margin didn’t say anything else as she locked her door, swinging her bag over one shoulder and taking off down the stairs. Miles watched her turn after the first flight and sighed, making his way slowly-but-not back to his own room so he could check his phone. It was close to 1PM already… he watched the courtyard from his window, seeing Margin disappear into the tree-lined path, and decided she was probably going to be long gone by the time he got down there.

Pulling on his slightly oversized coat, because the outside world was cold, Miles also left the building. He hesitated briefly at the sudden roar of a bike in the distance, despite knowing it was only Margin, then shook his head and continued on his journey, trying to walk at a brisk pace. He was already running late.

Every part of him remained alert as he travelled to the city, but there was no sign of Margin. Miles fully expected her to suddenly appear from an alley and question him, but she didn’t. He knew she would be so incredibly mad if she knew what he was doing, but perhaps he wasn’t in the wrong, actually. He was gathering inside knowledge, right? That was an excuse he could use.

He _was_ having to make excuses, though. Ugh…

The spiral of guilt made him pause briefly outside the library’s quiet rotating doors, but he gave a shake of his head. No matter what evil intent Marina apparently had, it was unlikely that Miles doing his own thing in the city was going to doom the whole octarian species. Probably. He took another deep breath to calm himself and stepped in.

Immediately the smell of old books hit him like a calming fog, and the sense of safety and familiarity he got from this place settled his nerves. Andi was easily recognisable at the reception desk, their pale white hair standing out amongst the oak furniture and cream-coloured wallpaper, and they glanced away from their work to give Miles a nod of acknowledgement, briefly lifting one hand to point across the building. Miles tried to respectfully nod back in response, but they were looking back at the screen in front of them and it probably went unnoticed.

Following the direction they’d motioned to, Miles soon arrived at the tabled area of the library, a place he’d been many times because it was one of the best areas to read when looking at a book too heavy to comfortably hold without a surface, like most of the mechanic books were. There were a few people here today, scattered about the room, but Miles quickly spotted the familiar face – mostly because the person who owned the face in question was waving to him.

Ilia was doing more of her homework from the ‘school’ place today, from the looks of things, but she seemed to be getting on alright without help this time. There was somebody else at the table with her, and Miles stared at their motionless form in slight panic for a moment before realising they were just asleep, their head in their folded arms and one hand resting on an open comic book in front of them – and actually, he recognised this person, too, from the first time he’d been to the city, but he couldn’t remember her name.

“Sorry I am late,” he said as quietly as he could while still being audible. After running into Ilia a few times at the library by sheer coincidence, this was the first time they’d _actually_ arranged to meet here.

“Eh, no biggie,” Ilia waved him off with a hushed voice, almost jabbing him with a pen. “Harper is a better studying partner than she first appears, given she’ll conk out if you put a book in front of her for five minutes. Peace and quiet. Unless she snores.” She grinned, suggesting that was a joke of some kind. “I’ll be done soon, then we can go grab lunch. Harper wants to flex her food tickets from salmon run and get us Schwaffles.”

Miles had been gradually learning more inkling over the past few weeks, but even so, some of those words were completely lost on him. He smiled anyway, nodding and taking a seat and soon zoning in on a puzzle game on his phone while he waited for Ilia to finish what she was working on.

Her prediction was correct, and after five minutes she finally let out an overdramatic sigh, flipping her notebook shut with a sound that surprisingly didn’t wake their sleeping companion. “No more maths.” That was a shame. Maths was pretty great. She reached over and shook the orange inkling’s shoulder. “Harp, wake up. Food time.”

“Whuh— huh…?” Harper was back to life in an instant, lifting her head and looking around in slight confusion, having forgotten where she was during her nap. “What…?”

“We’re going to the Crust Bucket, remember?” Ilia lifted her bag up onto the table to put her books inside, and Miles debated for a long moment as to whether it’d be rude of him to offer to help, but he spent so long thinking that she was done before he made a decision.

“Ohhh, yeah.” Harper nodded slowly, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “… Hey Miles. You’re here now.”

“Um… yes, I am, h-hello.” Miles got back to his feet as quickly and quietly as he could, because they were going somewhere and he didn’t want to hold them up or get in the way like he often did. Ilia blinked in surprise at his hasty movement, but said nothing to explain her expression, quickly brushing it off.

“You’re _new_ here. Have you tried a Schwaffle yet?” Harper asked him, walking half-backwards as she led the way out of the library – and Ilia had to quickly grab her arm to stop her from walking directly into a bookcase.

“I… don’t think so?” Miles still didn’t know what that word meant. They were talking about getting lunch, so he could guess by association that it was some kind of food.

“Then you haven’t _lived_!” Harper gave an overzealous wavy hand motion, fortunately keeping her voice reasonably level in the library. “We gotta get you a Triple Fried Galactic Schwaffle. Everyone has to experience it at least once.”

“Harper, he will _not_ survive a Triple Fried. Look at this boy.” Ilia motioned to him with her one arm, and Miles didn’t know what her words meant, but all of a sudden lunch sounded a million times more terrifying. Was Margin right after all? Maybe the inklings really were trying to kill him.

“Hmm. Maybe you’re right. Alright, Miles, you can look through my tickets when we get there and decide what you want, but _one day_ you gotta try a Triple Fried. It’s, like, the law.”

“It… is?” Miles stared at her with a look of stupefied horror. He couldn’t remember this being on the list of laws Marina had shown them for life in the city.

Fortunately, Ilia noticed his lost expression. “Oh, don’t worry, Harp’s just messing with you. She does that.” She nudged Harper roughly with her elbow. “She’s talking about a really big waffle at the Crust Bucket, that’s all. Most people can’t finish them in one go.”

“ _I_ can!” Harper announced proudly.

“Yeah, and Ada said you had a stomach ache all day both times you did.” Ilia rolled her eyes. “Which means you absolutely shouldn’t try doing it again today. You’re doing league matches this afternoon, right?”

“… Okay, _fine_ , you have a point.”

It wasn’t _too_ long of a walk to the square from where the library was, and Miles tried to hang back as best he could – for one, most of the pavements were only wide enough for two people to walk side-by-side, but also if Margin _was_ in the city, and saw him, she might not think he was following a pair of inklings, or at the very least he might be able to bluff his way out of it. Hanging back was harder than he thought it’d be, though, because every few minutes Ilia would realise he wasn’t with them, and stop to wait for him to catch up. Harper didn’t always notice, but would always halt at the request of her friend; she didn’t have the same aggressive air about her as Margin did, her impatience shown through the rocking of her heels rather than complaints.

When they emerged into the crowded square, Harper looked up at the screen above the lobby; there wasn’t an announcement on right now, but the screen displayed images that changed every five seconds, showing the current stages in rotation and an advertisement for the league tournament. “Aww, man,” Harper whined when the display turned red. “I could be playing clam blitz right now.”

“I’m _so sorry_ to take away your precious clam blitz time,” Ilia responded with sarcasm, but there wasn’t a hint of bitterness in her voice.

“You’d better be!” The wide grin on Harper’s face was probably proof that she wasn’t being serious – and Ilia just reacted with laughter. Miles didn’t understand inklings, sometimes, but at least neither of them were turning on him or blaming him for something he didn’t get. When Harper finally did address him again, a moment later, the subject had been dropped. “We’re almost there! I mean, you’ve been there before, that’s where we met you, so you probably know where we’re going already and I don’t _need_ to be a tour guide and— oh! _Oh_! Off the Hook are in the studio!”

The fast speech Miles was already struggling to keep up with changed so quickly he felt the mental whiplash from it, but Harper was already halfway across the square, motioning for them to follow. Ilia rolled her eyes again, but followed more slowly, trying not to collide with anyone in the crowd and making sure Miles didn’t get left behind. “I guess we’re looking at celebrities now. Miles, you know about Off the Hook, right?”

The name sounded familiar, and as Miles saw where Harper was heading to, he recalled it as the name of Marina and Pearl’s band. “Um… I think so?” He knew that they were both rather famous in Inkopolis, and Marina had warned against letting on to anyone that they knew her (or Pearl) personally, just because of the fuss it was likely to cause. More lying… great.

At least this one didn’t feel like he was betraying anyone.

Harper had her face as close to the glass as she could get without touching it when they reached her. “Look! Look! There they are! I haven’t seen them in the studio in _ages_!”

“Didn’t we see them last week?” Ilia asked, staying a little further back.

“That’s a _long_ _time_! Anyway, usually it’s just Pearl there recently, I haven’t seen Marina in a while.”

Pearl and Marina were chatting away about something in the studio, the thick glass and the bustle of the square protecting their words from the outside world. Miles tuned out Harper and Ilia’s bickering, something about how Pearl was cool but Marina was super pretty and maybe there weren’t actually more octolings around lately and they’d just not noticed them until now. Instead, he wondered what Marina had been up to since he saw her earlier that day; she’d helped Lance move, and he didn’t know what that involved, but it couldn’t have taken up too much time if she was here now. Marina often left in a hurry from her visits, saying she would be late otherwise, and while Margin seemed to have a lot of crazy theories about what she might be up to… it really looked like she was just trying to keep up with her job as well as helping all of them.

While he was watching the studio, probably looking incredibly lost in thought, Marina glanced over at the window for a second. As her gaze rested on him, a guarded look of recognition appeared in her eyes, and she smiled, giving a small wave; Pearl followed where she was looking and gave some kind of hand motion, probably one of the _not_ rude ones, although there was no real way for him to tell.

Miles lifted one hand a little to give a small wave back, and nearly jumped out of his skin when Harper let out an excited shriek next to him. “They _waved at us_! Oh my _gosh_!” She hopped up and down on the spot, and then waved enthusiastically. Miles saw Marina chuckle at the bouncy inkling’s misinterpretation, but gave another wave for her anyway just so that her assumption wasn’t incorrect.

“Really? Whoa!” Ilia beamed and gave a wave also, but a few seconds later tried to subtly nudge her friend again. “Okay, we should go now, otherwise it’s just weird.”

“Yeah. Uh-huh.” Harper still had to be pulled away from the window, seeming half in a daze.

With one final glance into the studio – Pearl winked at him, but unfortunately Miles could not read minds to know what that was for, or perhaps that was just a much more subtle acknowledgement that she knew who he was, or even just a ‘yeah you are hanging out with some kinda weird people today’ – Miles trailed after the others, who were waiting out of sight of the studio window nearby, just outside The Shoal.

“Okay, but they _did_ wave at us. That was pretty cool.” Ilia beamed.

“I _know_!” Harper looked like she was ready to take off at any moment, hopping from one foot to the other. “Miles! You are _so_ lucky you got to be a part of that! I hardly _ever_ see them wave at anyone unless someone outside does first!”

“Oh, um, yes! That was… pretty cool?” Miles tried to sound enthusiastic, hoping neither of them would put two and two together and realise his presence was the cause of that. He knew Marina and Pearl were popular, but he hadn’t expected a simple wave from them to cause that much of a fuss. Now he understood why he wasn’t supposed to let on that he knew them.

* * *

Faye hadn’t spent much of her life hanging out with friends, and therefore didn’t have many good hanging-out-with-friends ideas, and was endlessly grateful that Eight was very easily entertained. The two of them had spent the morning at a park near the outskirts of Inkopolis, ignoring the age limit on the sign for the playground because there was nobody else there to stop them and Eight had never experienced one before. Faye passed most of the time just oscillating back and forth slowly on a swing and watching as Eight climbed on things, until the octoling decided to join her. The off-handed joke of ‘bet you can’t do a loop’ was taken as an actual challenge, and Faye watched in amusement as Eight tried to achieve the near-impossible. She gave up after ten minutes.

“Have _you_ ever done it?” Eight asked her, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“Oh, _totally_ ,” Faye lied. “But if I try to do it again the ol’ headache curse will probably knock me out for three days, y’see.” She flicked the brim of her boater with one hand. “Also my hat would fall off, and that would be very sad.”

Eight nodded slowly, and Faye had the feeling she was finally learning to see through her sarcastic humour. “That _would_ be very sad.”

They sat there for a few minutes in silence, Faye testing the limits of gravity to see how far she could lean back before the swing seat threatened to tip her off – and promptly moved forward when it did, because if she hit her head on the ground she would be hit by aforementioned headache curse. Her phone toppled out of her pocket for the third time since she’d gotten here, and when she picked it up it didn’t seem to have any more cracks in the screen than before, though it was getting hard to tell by this point. It still worked, and that was what she cared about. She checked for any new messages, but her notifications bar was empty as usual.

“Three… have you ever used different pronouns before?” Eight spoke slowly with the question seemingly out of nowhere. “Or wanted to?”

Faye raised an eyebrow, deciding not to joke about the random-sounding question, because nothing was ever random when it came to Eight. “Why? This somethin’ you got on your mind?”

“I guess so.” The octoling shrugged, stretching her legs out in front of her because the swings were too low to the ground for her to sit comfortably otherwise. “I still don’t think I entirely understand.”

“I don’t think it’s really about understanding. There ain’t really rules.” Faye rolled her shoulders, sitting forward at last and pressing her thumbs together. “But if you _really_ wanna know, yeah, I did. Tried both ‘they’ and ‘he’ back when I was like… fifteen, or something, and thought I might be trans.” There was a part of her that wondered whether she’d be different now if there’d actually been anyone around to refer to her as such during those times, but any remnants of doubt had faded within the most recent years, since joining the New Squidbeak Splatoon and meeting Marie and Callie. Having an alternate name, and people who actually looked at her in a positive light, really did work wonders.

“You did?” Eight’s gaze lit up with a sudden spark of inquisitiveness, like this was more helpful to her internal dilemma than she’d expected it to be. “How did you know you weren’t?”

Faye gave a helpless shrug. “Just a feeling, I guess. I spent a few years thinking it over a lot before deciding I was cis in the end. Still hate skirts, though. On myself,” she added as an afterthought, noticing Eight picking at the hem of the one she was wearing over her leggings.

“I see.” With a thoughtful look at a few blades of grass breaking through the rubber tarmac floor of the playground, Eight seemed a little satiated by this information. “Is the feeling something you have to understand?”

“Does anyone understand _any_ kind of feeling?” Faye huffed, kicking one shoe against the ground and causing a scraping noise that was a lot more awful-sounding than she’d anticipated. “Well, what’re you thinking about? Pronoun change?”

Eight shuffled a little, looking more uncertain. “I… don’t know if I would like to change completely. It might be the feeling?”

“You can use more than one, if you want. I’ve met people who do. Besides, you can always try, and change your mind later if it don’t feel right.”

“Hmm…” Eight tapped her fingers against the chain of the swing. “I… would like to go by ‘they’ sometimes, maybe, I think.”

“Alright.” Faye nodded. She hopped up from the swing at last, the force behind the movement almost causing the seat to chop her in the back of her legs if she hadn’t moved away in time. “I’m bored of swinging. Does my good pal Eight know what they want to do now?”

Judging by the bright grin that appeared in Eight’s face at the sound of that sentence, they’d definitely found a pronoun they liked.

With no better ideas, the two of them headed back for Inkopolis Square; Eight wanted to play some warm-up matches before their team gathered for league later, and Faye decided that she might as well do some grocery shopping, because there was almost nothing left to eat in the old cabin. When they reached the square, however, their farewells were delayed slightly by someone shouting.

“Eight! _EIIIIGHT_! Over here!” Someone yelled, far too loudly for how close they actually were. Faye couldn’t help but flinch, and she wasn’t even the target of their attention.

Eight, inquisitive as ever and with a newfound love for actually making friends, immediately headed over to where the call had originated; it was the obnoxious orange inkling with the sliced hair, waving enthusiastically from the outskirts of the Crust Bucket seating area. Faye just about managed to suppress a groan, but Eight was already gone and Faye didn’t want to leave without saying a word, so she reluctantly meandered through the crowd after them.

The little inkling was already yammering away by the time she caught up, and there were two others nearby as well who were standing close enough that they must have been part of the group; a white-haired inkling with half an arm missing who Faye hadn’t met before, and the one-eyed octoling boy. He caught sight of Faye and stiffened with fear, and she made a point to look away from him, knowing he was friends with the angry one. No doubt he had been told all sorts of horror stories about _Agent_ _3_.

“What are you doing today, Eight?” Harper asked, in a snippet of conversation that Faye caught. “I gotta meet the others for league, but Ilia and Miles are just chilling here, I think.”

“I am going to play ranked before league, I think,” Eight said with a nod. “To warm up.”

“You get to play clam blitz! Aw, man, I’m jealous.” Harper huffed, but as usual her mood changed in a heartbeat. “Oh, oh, oh! Actually, wait, come with me to the lobby. Delilah needs to apologise to you.”

“She does?” Eight gave her a slightly alarmed look, but Harper had already latched onto their arm, pulling them towards Deca Tower as she waved a farewell to her friends. Eight threw Faye a quick panicked glance instead, since it clearly wasn’t working on Harper.

Faye sighed. She had no idea what this was about, but she couldn’t leave Eight alone to be subjected to… whoever Delilah was. Someone Eight didn’t particularly want to see, from the looks of things. What had she even done that needed apologising for?

With a nice reminder of how much she _hated_ the square as she tried to weave through the crowds after her friend, Faye hesitated briefly when she saw them enter the lobby. It wasn’t like she was going to be forced to play a match or anything if she went in there; she could leave as soon as whatever needed to be dealt with was over.

Harper had guided Eight to two inklings who were waiting at the edge of the room, probably for the rest of their team to show up. One Faye quickly recognised as Four, with a brief feeling of disappointment because she didn’t like being around him even more than before since that mission in the domes, even if that was entirely because of her own pettiness. The other was shorter than him, with blue hair and a pair of headphones that Faye was jealous of in this noisy building. Was that Delilah?

“Dee’s not here yet?” Faye only just caught Harper’s words above the bustle, answering her question for her. Eight definitely looked a little relieved.

“Not yet,” the blue-haired inkling told her, checking her phone. “Work’s been keeping her, but she should be here in a few minutes. Why is…?” Her gaze flicked to Eight.

Harper finally released the octoling from her grip. “I brought Eight because Dee needs to _apologise_ to her!” she huffed. “You said you’d talked to her, Ada.”

Ada grimaced. “I mean, I _did_ , but…”

“You sure this is a good idea, Harp?” Four gave her a doubtful look. “You know what Delilah’s like.”

“What am I like?”

Faye’s ears twitched at the sudden new voice as someone walked past her, and Eight recoiled a little, as if they were trying to hide behind Harper despite her being much shorter than they were.

Well, that definitely explained who Delilah was. She was really tall, well-build from constant matches with what must’ve been a heavy weapon of some kind, and had pink hair a similar length to Faye’s that was tied half way down her back. Her expression was serious and impossible to read.

 _I understand why Eight is afraid of her,_ Faye mused to herself, trying to ignore how tense her entire body suddenly felt.

“Like you,” Four shrugged, clearly not intimidated by her at all. “Sorry. Harper’s meddling.”

“I am not _meddling_!” Harper scowled at him. She nudged Eight forwards. “I brought Eight here, so you can apologise for being mean to her!”

Eight did not look happy to be in this situation, almost losing their balance when they were pushed but managing to catch it and stand stiffly, like they were trying to make themselves a little closer to Delilah’s height. The tall inkling looked at her for a long moment with a blank expression, like the octoling was not someone she particularly wanted to see right now either.

“… Yeah,” she said after a painful silence, her voice softer than expected. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry, Eight. I shouldn’t have been so cold towards you.”

Eight stared at her, eyes wide with fear that was quickly melting into surprise. “Um… thank you!” They glanced around quickly, to the other squids of varying familiarity, including Four and Ada who exchanged a surprised glance, as if they hadn’t expected Delilah to actually apologise so easily. “I-I hope your battles go well?”

“You betcha they will!” Harper clapped her hands together enthusiastically, startling the octoling a little, but as soon as they recovered from the shock, Eight smiled at her.

“I don’t recognise you,” Delilah said, her voice strong once more, and Faye didn’t register at first that she was talking to her. “Who are you?”

It finally hit her a moment later, and when Faye looked up, met Delilah’s naturally-stern gaze, the bright lights of the lobby seemed to spin. The nearest people, metres away, felt like they were close enough to crush her. There was a part of her that knew where she was, in the lobby and just standing awkwardly at the edge of a bunch of Four’s friends, but all she felt was _unsafe_.

Her jaw clenched. All she had to do was respond with her name. That was it. Just one word! Why could she not even say _one_ _word_!?

She had to force herself to look away, at the laminated tiles of the lobby floor, just so she didn’t look like a fool, frozen and staring at these people she’d just met.

_Why is this happening now!? She can’t even be more than a few years older than you! She’s nothing like her!_

“That’s… Faye, I think!” Harper’s voice was far too loud. It made her brain hurt. “She’s Eight’s friend. She’s cool!”

_Stop talking. Please…_

She had to say something. She just had to say _something_.

The only thing she could think about was that she needed to get out of here – so perhaps she’d focus on that. “I— I-I have to go,” she managed to choke out eventually, her own voice sounding foreign to her in a way that only made her chest tighten more. “So-orry—I’ll… see you later, Eight.”

If Eight responded to her at all, she didn’t hear it, lost in the mash of voices and chimes of the lobby. Fortunately there weren’t too many people in the way of her path to the door, the chunk of sunlight that seemed far too harsh now she’d been in here. When she was out, away from the neon lights and watching gazes, her head finally began to clear a little. She took one breath after another, of not-so-clear city air that was still nowhere near as stuffy as the lobby had been.

It had been a while since something had set her off like that, clutching her voice and putting it where she couldn’t reach, leaving her like a helpless fish. One of the worst times she could remember in recent history was when she’d first met the Captain, and that was sort of what had roped her into becoming Agent 3 in the first place – though, honestly, she probably would have agreed even if she could speak at the time. This was the first time it had happened around someone who wasn’t at least twenty years older than her, though.

Perhaps it was the look in her eyes, perhaps it was the hairstyle or face shape or something stupid like that, perhaps it was thinking too much about the past earlier. Whatever it was, it was _annoying_ _as_ _hell_.

“Faye. You alright?”

Oh, cod, if anyone decided to come after her, Four was the absolute last person she wanted to see or hear or have exist in her general vicinity. Her gaze snapped towards him, far too conscious that she was shaky and sweating. “What do _you_ want?” At least she could speak again.

He had an annoying sympathetic look on his face, half-hidden by his stupid hair, and even more annoyingly he didn’t seem phased by her attitude. “You didn’t look like you were doing so good, so as your friend, I—”

“You are _not_ my friend.”

“—as your sort-of colleague,” he corrected, holding his hands up in defence. “I wanted to check you were alright.”

Faye continued to glare at him. “I don’t need you to look out for me.”

“And I am _definitely_ starting to see that.” Four gave a lopsided smile, and Faye didn’t have the energy to hate him more. “Sorry for bothering you— and for Harper dragging you into this. Take it easy, yeah?” He gave a respectful nod and, to Faye’s surprise, actually turned and walked back into the lobby. She’d expected him to stay and fuss over her longer.

Good. She wanted to be alone.

Despite herself, though, she felt a thread of guilt sew its way into her gut. He wasn’t trying to torment her. She _knew_ this. Why did she have to feel bad for pushing people away when they weren’t even people she wanted near in the first place?

“… Thanks,” she muttered quietly, even though Four was too far away to hear now. It was more to help herself feel better than anything. It didn’t really work.

Taking another long, deep breath, Faye decided to forego grocery shopping for now in favour of just returning to the cabin instead. She kept her head low as she took one slow step at a time, hoping nobody would pay too much attention to her. All she wanted was to be left alone.

If that was really what she wanted, why couldn’t it make her feel better?

* * *

Margin grabbed an apple from the kitchen before she took off. She hadn’t decided whether it was a peace-offering snack or a weapon, or perhaps both, but it would work for either if needed. It might get a little bruised in her bag, but that probably wouldn’t matter much. Perhaps it would matter more for its usefulness as a weapon, than as a snack to something that would willingly eat rotten fruit.

Either way, she thought it best to have something on her, _just in case_.

She didn’t want to be around the other octolings today, as they all chatted about the major event of the morning, one of them _leaving_. Lance wouldn’t be the last. If they truly were just moving deeper into the city, if Marina was telling the truth, then perhaps the lost soldiers would be salvageable, but if she had other plans for them…

It was too much for her to think about. Leaving the city for a while would help clear her head, she could get her thoughts straight, and hopefully the freaky monster living miles away didn’t have a lacklustre memory. That was what the weapon-snack apple was for. A snack if it did remember her; a weapon if it did not.

The journey didn’t take as long as it felt last time, the route becoming more ingrained into her every time she took it. A rock formation here, an oddly-shaped tree there, an old building marking the halfway point. She recognised the rise that would give her a view of the forest long before she approached it this time, but upon reaching the top and seeing the abandoned village and canyon stretch out before her, she turned and headed back down the hill, keeping the engine running but not using her bike’s acceleration since she was going downhill. She wanted the beast to hear her this time, mostly because if she approached quietly and got jumped, there weren’t as many hiding places amongst the small collection of trees she’d left it at.

But when she approached, nothing jumped out to meet and/or eat her. Margin, warily, cut out the engine. She couldn’t hear anything. Was the creature gone? Hopefully, if it was, it had just gotten over its fear of bridges and returned home, and was not lying dead somewhere among the bushes. That would be very rude of it, after she went to all that effort to help it last time. She was attached now. Stupid monster fish!

Margin climbed off her bike, leaning it against a nearby tree because it would be faster to climb on for an escape if it was already upright, and took the apple out of her bag. Her one saving grace, if she happened to need it.

“Hello?” she called, almost flinching at how loud her voice sounded amongst the quiet rustles of the bushes. A wary exploration of the nearby area showed the little pond was still here, and did in fact still contain water, so the big fish-thing hadn’t drank it all. Where _was_ it?

Rustling. Getting louder, closer. Margin backed up nearer to a tree; she wasn’t afraid, it was just easier to escape a great hulking beast, if necessary, when there were obstacles for it. She gripped the apple tighter in her hand, trying not to crush it by accident. Mushy apples weren’t as good for self-defence.

It was _here_ , crashing through a pair of bushes and scattering leaves. It wasn’t limping as much now, more than capable of giving chase, but instead of lunging for her it slowed to a halt a few metres away, finned tail sweeping the ground and tearing at a few blades of grass poking through the earth.

Then it flicked its head and _threw_ something at her. Or rather, towards her. Margin took an alarmed step back as whatever it was hit the ground and rolled towards her.

It was… a dead bird. Oh. Lovely. One of its legs was missing, and as soon as the awful _smell_ hit, Margin knew this was something that had been dead for a while and was starting to rot. In fact, there might have been some maggots inside it…

In the interest of not feeling any more nauseous, Margin redirected her gaze away from the disgusting thing, and to the slightly-less-disgusting beast in front of her. It was sitting now, watching her expectantly. What did it want from her?

It looked down at the bird corpse, then back to her.

“… No thanks,” she muttered, feeling a little ill. “I don’t eat dead things. It makes me turn into them.” She considered using her shoe to push it back towards the creature so it’d get the message, but after another glance down… no, she was absolutely not making contact with that in any way whatsoever. Ew. Gross. This thing had absolutely no tastebuds. Or shame. Or ability to contract disease, apparently. Margin stepped back instead, motioning to it with her hands. “All yours. Enjoy your rotten corpse.”

The creature tilted its head at her. Margin sighed and took another few steps away, not so keen on being close to either it or the _wonderful_ gift it had brought her. “Here.” She threw the apple, letting it thump against the ground and roll about half way between her and the beast, and it _finally_ stood up and trotted forwards, sniffing at it. A moment later, the apple sort-of disappeared in a few bites, a few pieces dropping onto the ground because it didn’t seem like this creature was particularly gifted at chewing. It cleaned up some of the mess, gave her another unreadable look, then finally plodded over to pick up the dead bird. Hopefully it wasn’t too sad that she’d rejected its present.

It definitely looked healthier than the last time she’d seen it, at least. Its scales were much less dry, and even seemed to reflect the sunlight a little, disguising its dark bluish-green colour against the lighter leaves. Perhaps this was how they went unnoticed in the forest for so long; nobody went in there because of the radiation, and the monsters blended in too well to be seen from a distance.

With the dead bird hanging from its jaws – a chunk of something fell out, and Margin didn’t want to look close enough to see if it had been meat or a bug – the fish-beast gave her one final, long look, as if it was double-checking she did not want to eat this delicious corpse. Then, it trotted over to a different tree, dropping the bird at a small dip in its roots. Perhaps it was saving it for later. It looked up, briefly, turning its head to one side – in the direction of the forest – and let out a quiet whine, the fins at the side of its head twitching, but it stopped after a moment, pacing around the pond until it finally went to sit back in front of her again.

Margin wondered what it was doing just now. It couldn’t have been calling for its friends, unless it had the most godly sense of hearing on the planet, because the forest was way too far away for any of the other monsters to have heard that noise. It had been dragging a bird around the first time she ever saw it, too. Was there some kind of dead bird ritual these things had? That was just weird…

She remembered where that bird had eventually gone, though; to the colossal beast. Was this thing trained to bring food back to it? It probably didn’t leave the forest much. A bunch of this-thing-sized monsters could possibly go unnoticed if they ventured out, so far away from civilisation. A giant monster that size… not so much.

If that was the case, the fact that it had tried to give something to _Margin_ was definitely interesting. Maybe she really had managed to tame this thing. Perhaps she was just a much less scary creature to offer food to. Maybe it had _also_ been trying to give her some kind of peace offering.

Perhaps she was overthinking everything, and it was just a big dumb fish. That was pretty likely, too.

“You are such a weird _thing_ ,” she said aloud, knowing it couldn’t understand her slightly insulting words. Margin had never been a scientist; she was built and trained for being a soldier, and she was grateful for that, but right now she was starting to see the appeal. She wanted to research this thing, see what it could do. It was like nothing she’d ever seen before – and everyone else, too, apparently.

The monster tilted its head at her again, something it seemed to do a lot. Taking her chances, Margin began to approach it, walking in a slow circle around; it kept watching her, but did nothing more than that.

It was so _strange_ , all scales and lumpy bones and membranes that stretched between various parts of its body like fins, despite its apparent inability to swim. It was like an odd mix of a lizard and a fish and the canid creatures of old that she’d seen in some of the library books. When her circle took her beyond where it could twist its neck, it let out a quiet sound and turned it the other way, not seeming too worried. She wasn’t particularly threatening.

“I wonder how long you’ve been here,” Margin muttered, mostly to herself, once she was back where she’d started. Were the beasts here creatures that had evolved slowly over multiple generations, or were they ancient and mutated from the radiation? She didn’t know how to tell, lacking the proper scientist background, but she supposed if this thing _was_ super old, its teeth would probably have rotted and fallen out by now if all it ate was carrion. Unless it could grow _new_ teeth? That sounded like a useful life skill.

“… You should have a name.” It had probably earned one by now – the bar was incredibly low for fish-beasts, since all it had to do was not try to kill her, and it had a _much_ better record of that now than a few weeks ago. Plus, perhaps it was smart enough to learn the sound of its name if she gave it one! That sounded helpful. Maybe a fish monster would be useful in Octavio’s eyes if she could actually train it.

Or, at the very least, it might become someone who would actually _listen_ to her, unlike most of the other octolings.

“Okay, arbitrary decision. Boy or girl? I do _not_ want to check.” Margin tapped her hands together. “I don’t suppose you care. Or understand. I don’t have anything to flip, so… boy, I guess.” Did that even make a difference? It wasn’t as if she really knew many names. All the actual names she was aware of belonged to people she knew, and she wasn’t about to name a mutant monster after anyone. That was an insult to the few people she actually liked, and an insult to this poor thing for anyone she didn’t.

Okay, so perhaps she just needed to think of something fitting instead. What was _fitting_ for this thing? She stared at it for a long moment, causing it to let out a quiet grumble at the focus it didn’t understand.

“… Squidgy,” she decided eventually, nodding thoughtfully at her incredible naming skills. “Yeah, you definitely look like a Squidgy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eight uses both she/they pronouns but for the sake of Easy Reading, from this point on is referred to as "they" while in Faye's PoV and "she" in everyone else's,, I wanted her to start using they/them as well at some point and this was the easiest written way to do it dhsjf
> 
> Faye's gender sure is something as well but it's not touched upon in this story other than that brief mention of her past experimenting w pronouns but at this moment in time she thinks she is a cis woman
> 
> also, Squidgy :]


	19. Rock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: some mild blood/injury

Faye’s head was pounding by the time she got back to the cabin. She was too drained of energy to do anything but kick off her shoes and collapse into bed, willing her body to knock her out so she didn’t have to experience the awful migraine. It felt like the worst one in a while, which seemed to be a recurring theme today.

Everything was _awful_ , she felt _awful_ , this was all completely out of _nowhere_ and she _hated_ _it_.

She must have passed out at some point, because when her phone buzzed in the pocket of her jeans, which she’d forgotten to take it out of, she felt groggy as hell and not a lot better. Who was even messaging her? Was it Eight? She had left rather suddenly, so hopefully they hadn’t realised there was something wrong, even with the terrible job she’d done at hiding it.

Why… did she have a message from Marie…?

[16:57] hey, you doing alright??

That was… a strange and coincidental time for her to suddenly check up on her, especially when that wasn’t really something Marie _did,_ unless she’d suddenly decided to start today. Either way, Faye was not about to go into the whole story of suddenly having a meltdown because Four’s teammate looked at her funny.

[16:58] yeah. why?

[16:59] Four told me you seemed a little off so I wanted to make sure you were okay

Immediately Faye’s chest seemed to tighten again, like something had reached out of her phone screen and grabbed her. Her fists clenched, and she was forced to drop her phone on the mattress before she could add any more cracks to its screen.

It was happening again. It was happening _again_ they were _talking about her_ and how _useless_ she was.

The moment passed, and she was finally able to pick up her phone and reply.

[17:01] it’s none of his business

[17:01] I thought he was going to drop it and leave me alone

[17:01] what happened?? Are you sure you’re okay

[17:01] NOTHING happened why was he messaging you about me!!

[17:01] he was just concerned that’s all

[17:01] I don’t want him to be concerned about me I don’t want his fucking pity

[17:01] he doesn’t pity you

[17:01] I’m an idiot this is what set you off last time I’m sorry

[17:01] nobody is like making fun of you or anything that would just be cruel

[17:01] Four just told me something seemed up because he knew I could check if you were doing better

[17:02] but I think I’ve just made it worse

[17:02] sorry

_I’m doing it again._ Faye stared blankly at her phone, held tensely like her entire body was by this point. She could feel her heart pounding in her head with every stab of pain, heard her own breath as her throat attempted to close up and made it hitch.

She wanted to cry – but she couldn’t. Not now. Not ever. Faye squeezed her eyes tight, sucking in a deep breath as the world briefly felt like it was turning under her.

This was an overreaction. That was all it was. Marie was still here, if only she’d stop pushing her away.

[17:03] no it’s okay. you’re good. thanks

[17:03] I’m sorry for overreacting again it’s stupid

[17:03] it’s not stupid if it’s something you’re struggling with

[17:03] but really are you doing alright? Is there anyone with you

[17:03] no

[17:03] … to the first or second part?

[17:03] uhh let’s go second

[17:03] I’ll be fine. I just had a weird moment it’s not anything that hasn’t happened before

[17:03] thanks for caring tho I appreciate it

[17:03] of course I care dumbass!!

[17:03] the insult is supposed to be in like an endearing way

[17:04] do you want someone to be with you? Sometimes not being alone helps

[17:04] don’t you have work??

[17:04] I just finished so it’s not like you’re taking up my business hours or anything

[17:04] I can call you while I walk home if that’ll help. Or just keep texting but I might respond slowly so I don’t, like, get hit by a car or something

[17:04] or none if you’d rather have some peace and quiet it’s completely up to you

[17:04] but y’know. Life sucks and if I can help make it a lil better I want to

[17:04] I haven’t tried to make a call in ages I don’t know if my phone can manage it still

[17:04] or if the signal out here is even good enough for it so I might have to go into the city

[17:04] I need to buy food at some point anyway though I’m basically out

[17:04] ugh

[17:04] I can bring you smth if you need it?

[17:04] stop buying me things !!

[17:05] okay okay sorry

[17:05] wait no that sounded more harsh than I intended

[17:05] thank you. I can afford groceries tho

[17:05] I need to buy milk anyway you could come with if you want?

[17:05] if you need to go to the store and don’t want to do it alone

[17:05] Callie messaged me in the middle of work complaining there was no milk

[17:05] because she used it all

[17:05] which I fail to see how is my fault

[17:05] ah, family

Faye lay there without responding for a long moment, trying to weigh up if she was likely to collapse if she went out into town. There was still a large part of her that wanted to just stay here and sleep, to isolate herself from everyone lest something else set her off in the vulnerable state she didn’t want to admit she was in.

And yet… Marie. Any chance to spend time with her felt few and far between, and she was one of few people, if not the only, that Faye felt like she could stand to be around right now.

Curse her weak lesbian heart.

[17:06] I might take you up on that offer if you’re not going to, like, one of the big supermarkets

[17:06] sorry if I’m shit company tho

[17:06] oh dw about it

[17:06] you could say literally nothing and still be good company

[17:06] you able to meet somewhere now? I’m still out but stores are open for hours

[17:06] it is starting to get dark tho

[17:06] yeah I can probably go now. where am I going

[17:07] are you at the cabin rn? I can meet you at the plaza maybe there aren’t usually too many folks around there these days

[17:07] sure

Well, there was her motivation for getting up. The world did feel a little funky when she stood, but not in an alarming you-are-going-to-collapse way, so that was nice. Faye didn’t know how long she’d been asleep for, but it seemed to be long enough to have helped, a little. She poured the half-glass of water left in the filter to drink before she went, hoping that would stop her having a physical bad turn today too, and refilled the device before stuffing her wallet and an old plastic bag into the pockets of her jeans, heading out.

There were definitely less people in the plaza than the square, but it was rush hour and there were still a few too many for Faye’s liking. She took a seat on a bench in what felt like a quiet corner, in comparison, across from the old Booyah Base mall that had changed licensing as soon as the lobby moved and now contained mostly tourist shops. Everything was different now, compared to a few years ago. The wide-windowed studio stood tall in the building behind her, and Faye wondered how often Marie (and Callie) still visited the place for work, or if their careers had relocated them elsewhere in the city now too.

It wasn’t more than five minutes before she caught a glimpse of green, and spotted Marie heading over in her not-particularly-matching cap and overcoat, reminding Faye that it was only February and there was still a chill in the air.

“Hey,” Marie greeted simply, her voice only slightly muffled by her facemask. She offered a hand out to Faye. “You ready to go?”

“On a grand adventure to get milk and bread,” Faye joked half-heartedly, suddenly doubting how ready she really was for more social interaction. She took the offer more out of politeness than actually needing the help up – and also, well, she wanted to hold Marie’s hand, but what was new there?

“At a local minimart, where only the bravest dare travel,” Marie added with a hidden smile. “Your hands are warm.”

“Really?” Faye, letting go after what felt like only milliseconds but was probably too long, ended up just staring at the lighter skin of her palms for a moment, as if she was going to develop some kind of heat vision. “Well, I’d offer you one to hold, but we’re in the middle of town.” She didn’t know how often Marie got recognised in public, but the last thing she needed was anyone making assumptions.

Marie laughed quietly in response. “Aww, how sweet.” Her hand, now free, went to adjust her facemask; her cheeks looked a little flushed, hopefully just from the cold and not because the joke had embarrassed her. “But… yeah, I getcha. How are you feeling now?”

“Alright, I guess,” Faye shrugged, glossing over the fact that she still felt completely drained and just standing felt like more of an effort than usual. This was fine. She could deal with it. “Let’s just go. There’s a cheap corner store, like, ten minutes from here.”

Faye stuffed her hands into her pockets and led the way, not stopping to ask if Marie was familiar with the place she was thinking of because it was just another corner store, one of many in the city, where everything was cheaper than the supermarket brands. The sky was already turning dark, and despite how exhausted she felt, Faye still made an effort to take a slight detour in order to lead them through the main streets of the city, and not the back alleys which were the most direct route. There were a few people milling around here, but the further they went from the plaza, the less crowded it became, until there were just a few others passing by on every street.

“I don’t know if it helps,” Marie said after a while of their journey being in silence, keeping her voice low so nobody would overhead the conversation. “But… I’m here if you ever need anything – or someone. I know I’m not the only one, too.”

Faye couldn’t force herself to meet her gaze, continuing to watch the pavement in front of her as she walked. “I’m fine. I don’t need to be babied.”

“It’s not being _babied_ ,” Marie scoffed, sounding a little hurt by the rebuttal. “When we were in—uh… underground, and I, like, had a moment… you didn’t help me just because you thought I was weak or something, did you?”

“No! Of course not.” Faye looked at her at last, almost flinching away from the intensity in her eyes, which was worse when half her face was covered.

“And afterwards—you asked me to go with you and Eight, because you didn’t want me to be alone. Were you _babying_ me then?”

Marie didn’t have the bitter tone in her voice that Faye would’ve expected from her words, but they still forced her to look away again, at the unsavoury language someone had spray painted onto the nearby wall. “… No. Sorry.”

“It’s alright. Just… trying to help you see from another perspective, or something, I guess.” Marie gave a small sigh. “Perhaps then you won’t be so hard on yourself for not dealing with everything alone.”

“Everything…?” Faye’s gaze snapped back to her, knowing she looked a little lost – or maybe haunted. There was no way Marie could know. There wasn’t anyone who could have told her. Was there?

“I mean, I don’t know what’s going on, if it’s something to do with whatever happened on that mission Gramps won’t tell me anything about or something unrelated, but… y’know. When people act in certain ways, it’s usually because of some kind of trauma.” She caught onto Faye’s expression, which probably told her she’d hit the nail on the head. “I’m not going to ask you to tell me anything. You don’t have to. Not now, not ever. Just… know that I’m _here_ , okay?”

Faye didn’t know how to respond. She still had the instinct in her gut, to push her away and not burden anyone else with her stupid problems, but that was the exact opposite of what Marie wanted her to do. And that… was a first. Not even a first time in a while, just a first. And there was a tiny fraction of Faye’s mind that just wanted to unload everything, get it out to someone for the first time in her life.

She knew there was absolutely no way she could do that, though.

“Thank you.” At least she could say that in earnest. “It means a lot, honest. I just… ain’t good at taking up on it.”

“Hey, you’re not trying to push me away now, so that’s a step in the right direction.” The corners of Marie’s eyes creased a little with a hidden friendly smile. “… Also sorry this was kinda deep for, uh, a walk to the store. Which we passed, like, a minute ago, by the way.”

“We did?” Faye looked over her shoulder, feeling a little dazed suddenly as she saw the familiar sign further back down the road. “Oh. Whoops.”

Marie laughed, a sound which could instantly make Faye’s heart feel a little lighter, despite the circumstances. “All good. I wondered if you’d noticed, but, y’know, I’d have felt bad if we just kept going until you realised on your own.”

“Hey, give me some credit.” Faye managed a small smile at last, rolling her eyes a little as she started on a new path back the way they’d come. “You sure know some stuff, though. What are you, a therapist?” She meant it as a good-natured joke.

“No way,” Marie let out another small huff of a laugh. “Just… someone who’s been to one. And probably needs to go back at some point. Therapy gets a little confusing when there’s a top-secret underground war involved and you have to think of euphemisms for everything.”

The topic was dropped when they were in the store, for which Faye was a little relieved. It didn’t take her long to locate the few things she needed, bread and pasta and a handful of fruit because that was pretty much all she lived off by this point. Marie had found the milk by the time she caught up, and thankfully didn’t comment on her minimal grocery run.

They didn’t talk much for the walk back, but to Faye’s surprise, it didn’t feel awkward. The streetlamps were on now, illuminating every road with pale light that couldn’t overpower the neon lights in most of the storefronts. Everything was more obnoxiously bright the closer they got to the plaza, and it was a little painful to look at, so Faye used this as a good reason to watch her friend who was a few steps ahead instead; Marie’s white hair seemed to glow a multitude of different colours from the nearby lights. Every few minutes she switched the carton she was holding to the other hand, because milk was cold and so was the air, and Faye wondered if it’d be polite to ask if she wanted her to carry it in her bag until their paths split.

She also thought about multiple excuses she could use to hold her hand again, but didn’t settle on one before they reached the plaza.

“You gonna be alright for now?” Marie checked once they stopped an inconspicuous distance from where the grate was.

“Yeah,” Faye nodded slowly. Marie’s presence had managed to calm her, and though she did want to spend more time with her, she wasn’t willing to lie to her for that. “Thanks. For doing this.”

“Anytime.” Marie smiled behind her mask. “… Well. Anytime with an asterisk.”

“Awright, Miss Person-with-many-important-things-to-do,” Faye said with a grin.

“Yeah, yeah.” Marie rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “See you again soon, maybe?”

“Hopefully. It’s nice spending time with you when there’s no, like, missions or the flu involved.”

Marie laughed, which was enough to give Faye a spoonful of dopamine. “Same for you! I hope it _continues_ to be that way.”

* * *

Margin kept a close eye on her fuel supply when she made the journey back. The canyon was a long way away, and ate through about a quarter of what Marina gave her every time she went there and back, which was a _lot_ when she didn’t want Marina to know she was regularly travelling far. Having to space out her journeys a few days apart was so _annoying_. Margin wondered if she could get Squidgy to follow her somewhere closer to the city, but she could only bring him so close to civilisation before he posed a risk – to both himself and anyone around.

For now, she would just have to wait, and that was what she did. Margin spent the next three days away from the hotel as much as possible, just so that nobody noticed a pattern, and in that time managed to get three of the four ranked modes to S+8. She _would_ beat the inklings at their own game, and at least some of them were actually starting to become somewhat challenging to fight. The fact that she had to be on a team _with_ inklings continued to be a disappointment, however.

On the fourth day, she decided that enough time had passed, and she could travel again without arising too much suspicion. First, though, she wanted to find some kind of food to bring with her. An apple was all well and good, and she stuffed one into her bag alongside her notebooks which she planned to actually _use_ today, but an apple was very small compared to a big fish-beast and probably not very filling. Margin didn’t want to use up the octolings’ food supplies, though, so she would have to find something else.

Clearly, Squidgy had no aversion to eating old rotten food, and there was one place around here that Margin associated with the words _old_ and _rotten_. There was all sorts of old stuff thrown into the junkyard; perhaps there was something edible there, if you had a stomach of steel.

She parked her bike outside, leaning it against the tall fencing that surrounded this smelly place, and briefly reminisced on the fact this was where she’d gotten her bike in the first place – that wasn’t exactly a fond memory, with all the time she’d spent in this dump as she reorganised its engine to get it to work.

“Miles?” she called, raising her voice as she walked through the gateless entrance. There was no response, and when she skirted the biggest piles to the corner where the old helicopter lay in significantly less pieces than before, found nothing. He wasn’t here today, apparently – which was odd, because she thought he was out somewhere right now. Where else did Miles go? Perhaps he was finally playing more turf war.

Well, at least he wasn’t here to question what she was doing. Margin hadn’t decided how or when she was going to tell Miles about Squidgy. She would have to at some point, inevitably, but perhaps she should wait until Squidgy was significantly more likely to listen to her, and significantly less likely to eat her friend immediately, should they meet.

Her plan to find something that might work as food didn’t look great, though, because almost everything here was old metal or wood, neither of which were likely to be the diet of mutants. Margin spent a while wandering around the junk piles, looking them over for anything that might have been edible to a beast with no taste, but nothing particularly stood out.

“Why do the inklings never throw out anything _useful_?” she muttered to herself.

A few tin cans on the side of one of the piles caught her eye; they probably contained food, once upon a time, so perhaps that was a good start. She only had to climb up onto an old table to reach them, and there were a few more things buried within the pile. Was there anything still containing food in here? Margin pushed a few of the cans aside, and saw a bigger and less-dented one lodged within some dismembered chair legs. It looked, from this angle, like it was still closed. Perfect!

She reached in to grab it, and it was definitely wedged in well, but not in such a way that it’d dislodge the entire pile if she pulled it free. Trying to wiggle it loose didn’t work, so she tugged as hard as she could instead.

Immediately the can popped loose, so suddenly that Margin almost lost her balance. One of the nearby cans caught the back of her hand in the process, and she failed to muffle a small yelp of pain as the sharp aluminium sliced her skin. Catching herself, finally, she looked at the very light-feeling can in her hands to see what she’d actually obtained this wound for.

It was… an empty paint tin. Oh. Wonderful.

Her hair twitching with annoyance, Margin turned and threw the old tin as far as she could. This was pointless. There was nothing here! She might as well just take her apple and go.

On her way back to the entrance, she examined the damage; there was a slice across most of the back of her hand, with some trails of blue where blood had leaked from it, but it wasn’t deep, and most of the bleeding had already stopped. There also didn’t appear to be anything in the cut, so that was good. She didn’t need to detour back to the hotel first and risk anyone questioning her in the process.

Margin set off again, in slightly more of a foul mood than before, but soon mellowed out as she travelled out of the barrier and across the land like she had done many times by now. This time, she kept an eye out for secluded areas as she passed, anywhere that looked far from a place someone might live and hidden enough that a beast twice as long as she was tall could go unnoticed. There weren’t many options, but every now and then she would pass a small clump of forest, a valley… perhaps it was possible after all.

Eventually she reached Squidgy’s little secluded home, and this time he was peeking out from the bushes as she arrived, having learnt the sound of her bike. He hopped out onto the grass, making his strange grumbly noises as Margin parked her bike against a tree and hopped off to rummage through her bag. She was a lot more confident this time that he wouldn’t try to attack her.

Her hand stung when she accidentally brushed it against the inside of her bag; she’d forgotten about that cut on the way here, and fortunately it was dried by now and didn’t smear blood on anything. She pulled the apple out and shrugged the bag back over her shoulders. Squidgy had noticed she had food and slunk closer, the fins at the side of his head fanning out.

“You better appreciate everything I do for you,” Margin scoffed, holding up her injured hand and pointing to it with the one she was holding the apple in. “See this? I got it trying to find _you_ something to eat.”

Squidgy tilted his head at her words, the nostrils on his snout twitching as he sniffed. He reached his head forward – and licked her hand.

Margin snatched it back immediately. “ _Ow_ , eww, gross, don’t try to eat _me_!” His tongue was _wet_ and _disgusting_ and she did _not_ want it touching her. She shook her hand, ignoring the stinging as she tried to flick off the fishy saliva. “You are a disgusting animal.”

Apparently her actions were an obvious enough sign of “did not appreciate that” to transcend the language-slash-intelligence barrier, because Squidgy backed away from her with a quiet whimper. Perhaps he hadn’t been trying to eat her after all; maybe he was trying to heal her wound. By licking it. Which, annoyingly, made sense. It was a gross, icky logic, but still logic nonetheless.

Margin grimaced, and wiped her hand on her trousers – _ow_ – before looking at the apple in her other one. “Okay, fine, take your snack. Here. Food.” She waved it in front of her, making a motion to throw it, and Squidgy seemed to perk up a little. “Catch.”

She tossed it in an arc through the air towards him, and Squidgy hopped up excitedly. He caught it in his giant maw, crunching through it easily, albeit messily. It probably wasn’t very filling, the equivalent of her eating a grape, but it seemed to make him happy.

“Alright.” Margin wiped her hands on her trousers again, making a mental note that they definitely needed to go in the wash later. “Let’s see if you’ll follow me. Come on, buddy.” She grabbed the handlebars of her bike, feeling her arms ache a little just from the memory of pushing it around before as she heaved it from its resting spot. “Follow! Come on!” She waved a hand.

Squidgy tilted his head again, the usual response, but trotted after her. He wasn’t limping anymore, and the injury on his leg had healed over as a scar by now. Perhaps she wouldn’t have to push her bike after all.

Deciding to test this, Margin climbed back onto her bike. Hopefully having a faster-moving object to follow wouldn’t set off his hunting instincts. Were friends exempt from being prey? Did fish-beasts experience friendship in the first place?

The growling of the engine did seem to deter him a little, though, either because of the sound, or knowing that it was usually a sign she was about to leave. Margin gave another motion for him to follow, and he did take a few careful steps closer.

Alright. Time to go.

Margin started her bike off moving slowly, so that Squidgy just had to do a brisk trot to keep up, but he _was_ following her. That was an excellent sign. She kept at that pace for a short while before getting impatient, speeding up as they headed across the open dry plains. Squidgy let out a happy squawk, galloping almost alongside her bike but slightly back, proof that he was still _following_ , and he didn’t make any attempt to pounce on the thing despite being close enough to do so. Margin breathed a sigh of relief that was easily drowned out by the motorbike’s engine.

She drove for fifteen minutes before seeing a wide expanse of trees in the distance, a forest that didn’t look _too_ close to anything that might have been inhabited. Margin finally shut off her bike and dismounted it at the edge of the trees, choosing to walk instead for now in favour of not crashing into a tree or destroying the foliage. This didn’t look like the forest Squidgy was from, much more like the one surrounding the hotel where the plants weren’t weird and deformed, but Margin was pretty sure she could hear running water in the distance. That was good! Squidgy needed water to survive, evidently, and that meant he wouldn’t wander off searching for it.

By now, Squidgy was panting from the run, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. He still followed obediently after her through the trees, though. What a good boy. He was so smart! For a strange, mutant creature, at least.

“Okay! Here we are. Looks like this is your new home, for now,” Margin told him. She didn’t know if she could trust him to stay here, or if he would end up returning to the canyon when left to his own devices, and this was still quite far from the city, but… at the very least, a twenty-five-minute drive would take up less fuel than a forty-minute one. That was less times she’d have to interact with Marina and ask for more!

She led the way through the forest, noticing that a few places looked like they _might_ have paths but not really. A few times, she’d see something scuttle through the undergrowth, but whatever was here seemed far too small to be a person. Hopefully Squidgy wouldn’t mess up the ecosystem here too much. It didn’t take too long to find where the running water sound was coming from, which was, predictably, some running water; a small stream that ran through the forest, only a few feet wide. It wasn’t huge, but it did contain water, and there was more than enough for Squidgy to drink, and that was what mattered.

He eagerly settled down to rehydrate after all the exertion he’d just done, and Margin propped her bike against another tree, taking the notebook from her bag and finding a reasonable-sized rock to sit on. Now that Squidgy was worn out, and moving less, this was the perfect time for her to refine her doodles from before, to make new ones and add some extra notes. Research! She didn’t know how much of this would be good enough to show Octavio, and perhaps she could remake some of it neater later so it didn’t look like stuff she’d scrawled out in the woods (or in a crevice in a cliff), but surely this would be of some interest to him!

It was a lot more than what any of the other octolings would provide him, at least. Perhaps he’d just be glad she hadn’t resorted to a cushy life of sucking up to the inklings for living on the surface. Margin was here, but she wasn’t bowing down to them.

She spent a good hour drawing, until the rays of light that broke through the trees above started to weaken, and she realised it was getting late. Squidgy had spent most of that time sleeping, curled up in a collection of fins and limbs within the roots of a large tree that didn’t look particularly comfortable to lie on, but he woke when Margin stood up to leave.

“Stay,” she commanded, holding a hand out when he started to follow her again. “I have to go now, but I’ll be back. Soon, hopefully. Assuming you actually _stay_ here.”

Squidgy halted, mumbling unintelligibly as usual. He didn’t understand her words, but he was clearly starting to understand the hand motions by now. Margin took a step back, keeping her hand out, and he obediently stayed where he was.

“Good boy,” she praised him, not that he would realise this. Perhaps he could understand her tone? She couldn’t tell. He didn’t try to follow her when she went to her bike, but took a few steps towards her when she started to push it away. “No. Stay.”

Squidgy backed away, letting out a quiet whine as he lay down at the riverbank.

“Don’t be all sad at me, ya great lump, I can’t bring you with me to the city,” Margin huffed. “I will see you in a few days. Maybe I’ll find something for you to eat that’s not an apple or a paint can.”

Fortunately, Squidgy remained where he was as she left. Hopefully this place was more like home to him than the last little oasis he’d been at, and he’d stay here until the next time she could drive out this far. Margin made sure not to look back until she was sure he’d be out of sight, in case he took that as permission to follow her after all.

Once she reached the edge of the forest, she quickly worked out which way the city was from her surroundings, and drove. It was a lot less time before she saw the spires of the barrier in the distance now. Margin wasn’t sure if she could move Squidgy any closer than here, but at least it wasn’t as far as the canyon.

Would he be useful for anything? She didn’t know. At the very least, it felt like she finally had another friend in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marie may be kind of a mess sometimes when it comes to her crush but that immediately evaporates whenever Faye needs support because sometimes anxiety is just like that
> 
> Also writing text conversations between them is very fun :]


	20. Unforeseen Consequences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings: illness

The first thing Margin noticed upon waking was that the world was _incredibly_ warm.

That was very strange. It was not usually this warm, in her room, and perhaps it was closer to this in the crowded lobby but not _quite_ , and maybe this was the change in seasons she’d been told about, but wasn’t that supposed to happen gradually over time, and not suddenly in one day?

Everything in her room looked fine. A little fuzzy, maybe, probably because she’d just woken up, but the world wasn’t on fire or anything, so that wasn’t the source of everything being so very warm today. Maybe the surface just got very warm, sometimes, and this was something they hadn’t been warned about?

Margin didn’t like it. It made her feel ill.

Getting out of bed and changed into clean clothes didn’t help. Her hand was also stinging a lot again, for some reason. She must have rubbed it against the fabric of her shirt while putting it on, or something.

Breakfast did not sound appealing at all, but eating was an important thing, so she decided she might as well get some toast, at the very least. She could stomach toast, surely, even if the thought of eating made her nauseous. Margin made her way down the three flights of stairs to the kitchen, deciding not to skip any flights today because she didn’t quite feel like it.

Hmm. Maybe something was up after all, but she was too tired to care. Perhaps she should try and sleep whatever it was off, after breakfast.

There were a few other octolings in the kitchen already, and of course one of them was Anten, and why had Margin come in here again? Breakfast, or something? Her head hurt. She decided she would ignore the banished octoling for now, and… stare into a cupboard until she could remember what she was about to do. Toast, right? Yeah. Toast. This wasn’t the bread cupboard. That was a different one.

“ **Margin, you alright? You look a little off.** ” Fortunately, Margin’s foggy brain had decided Anten wasn’t important, and their words were completely lost on her.

“ **We can’t have our little princess catching a cold,** ” one of the other octolings jeered, someone Margin wouldn’t recognise even on a good day, but his voice was annoying.

“ **I would laugh at that, if she wasn’t completely ignoring your insult,** ” Anten muttered. “ **Hey. Margin.** ”

“Don’t talk to me,” she growled, her words coming out a little slurred – and also, for some reason, not in octarian.

“ **Huh**?” Why couldn’t Anten just leave her alone? They just had to go the extra mile, reaching out to place a hand on her arm. “ **Margin, you’re acting weir** —”

“ ** _DON’T TOUCH ME!_** _”_ Margin lashed out the second they made contact, drawing away as fast as she could and feeling the world turn around her.

“ ** _Ow_! Okay, sheesh, I get it**,” Anten stepped back with a bitter tone in their voice, rubbing at their upper arm which, apparently, Margin had hit. Why were there two Antens now? One was more than enough already.

The other octoling made some kind of comment, but Margin didn’t hear his words. Which was good, because she didn’t want to.

“ **Margin**?”

In the next blink, the world had moved and also counters were surprisingly solid and hurt quite a lot. That wasn’t very nice. What an awful world Marina had brought them into, a world of granite surfaces and cupboard doors that made loud noises when you hit them. The one other octoling who had been in the room with them was near to her now, waving her hands in front of Margin’s face and doing all sorts of annoying things and couldn’t they all just _leave_ _her_ _alone_ already!?

“ **Can you stand?** ” That was a stupid question. Of course she could. She just didn’t feel like it right now. “ **Margin. We need to get you… somewhere that’s not the kitchen floor.** ”

The world started to take shape again, and oh, Margin really was on the kitchen floor, with her back against the cupboards, and she _might_ have collapsed here. Possibly. Maybe. It seemed there was in fact something wrong after all. “ **Sure, whatever** ,” she mumbled, letting the other octoling pull her up.

She slung Margin’s arm over her shoulders to help her walk, which was more of a hindrance than anything because like everyone else this octoling had to be _taller_ than her. “ **I’ll take you to the common room, you can sit down there and maybe we can see if Marina knows what to do**.”

“ **I don’t need _Marina_!**” At the mere mention of her name, Margin was brought back to life by the sheer power of hatred alone, sliding free from the octoling helping her – oh boy the world was still a little wobbly. “ **I’m going back to my room. I’ll sleep it off. I’m _fine_.**”

Just looking at the first set of stairs she had to walk up for that made her groan internally.

This was fine. She made her way slowly back up the stairs, gripping the handrail so tightly it felt like it might splinter in her hand just to make sure it was still there and she wasn’t going to collapse again and fall down the stairs, which would hurt. The other octoling apparently didn’t trust her body any more than she did, hovering around behind her with every step but making sure to not touch her, after witnessing what the last unwanted contact had done.

Margin was too out of it to yell at this person for being in her room, but fortunately as soon as she was sat on her bed and out of a-health-risk-if-she-collapsed-here range, the other octoling left the room. She was even polite enough to close the door on her way out, which was nice. Too bad she was probably going to go straight to Marina.

That was proven correct when Margin next awoke, feeling no better than she had done earlier, to a knock on her door and Marina’s voice. “Margin? How are you feeling?”

Immediately Margin wished she’d actually got _into_ bed rather than just falling asleep on top of the covers, so she could bury herself under the duvet and attempt to block out the existence of Marina. “I’m _fine_ , leave me _alone_.”

“Well, you’re acting normal enough that you’re probably not dying, so that’s a good sign, at least. I’m coming in, okay?”

As if there was any reasoning with Marina. Margin groaned, dragging herself back up into a sitting position so she could at least glare at her with dignity when she walked through the door. Her earlier plan of ‘Marina can have some basic respect, maybe’ was completely gone now, because she was too tired to pretend she didn’t hate Marina.

Except it wasn’t _just_ Marina. It was Marina and the little white inkling she hadn’t seen in a while, and an old shark lady in a mono-coloured suit. “Who are they?” Margin snapped, instantly on the defensive because someone she _absolutely_ didn’t know was in her space.

“This is Doctor Hammond,” Marina explained as if this was a perfectly normal thing. “I don’t want to pressure anyone who was a doctor in the domes, so I brought her here to see you instead.”

“Trust me, I know what I’m doing,” aforementioned Dr Hammond stated, holding up one greyish hand in a small wave. “Thirty years’ experience. A little less experience with octolings, mind you, but Marina hasn’t proven too unusual in the past few years.”

Margin gave her a blank look, not really caring who this person was but rather just wanting her to not be here. She shot her glare to the inkling instead. “Why is _she_ here?”

“Because Lucinda is _my_ private doctor and I’m _paying_ her,” Pearl shot back with none of that fake niceness Marina held. “So you could at least appreciate that I’m tryin’a keep you healthy here.”

“Pearlie, don’t wind her up,” Marina warned, though there was a look in her eyes that showed she wasn’t _actually_ mad at Pearl, like the inkling-loving traitor she was.

“Maybe it’s best if you wait outside, dear,” Dr Hammond suggested, waving a hand at the inkling and proving she was in fact the smartest in this room. “You too, Marina. There’s supposed to be at least a smidge of patient confidentiality, even if I have no clue who my patient is or where she came from.”

“Are you sure?” Marina appeared surprised by this suggestion. “She can be a little, uh…”

Margin glared at her, daring her fuzzy form to finish that sentence.

“Nothing I can’t handle, I’m sure. I’ve met many a funny one.” Dr Hammond shook her head as she sat down a few feet away on the edge of the mattress. “But I’ll put it to you, dear. Would you like Marina to leave, or stay?”

She was asking Margin? This was the first time anyone had actually asked her what she wanted all day instead of deciding things for her, and Margin felt a little stumped for a moment because of that. Finally, she had the option to _not_ be around Marina, and yet… “She can stay, I guess.” If this person did anything strange, or tried to hurt her, she didn’t want Marina to feign innocence because she hadn’t been in the room.

Unfortunately, Marina couldn’t read her thoughts, so probably took that as a sign Margin was actually warming up to her instead. She smiled and nodded, not saying another word.

Margin was familiar with doctors to the extent of knowing they existed and what they did, but the only time she could vaguely remember even being near them was when she’d been recovering from the _severe_ _injury_ Agent 3 had given her, and beyond a few healing checks after that, she hadn’t seen one since. This doctor seemed mostly interested in just asking her questions, humming and hawing in response to describing how she felt, and trying to stick something in Margin’s ear – and then moving it away when she resisted, explaining what it was and how it worked and that it was just taking her temperature.

“Hmm, you are running quite the fever,” the doctor hummed as she looked at the numbers Margin didn’t understand the relevance of. “ _Quite_ the fever.” Apparently it was enough that she had to repeat it a second time. She looked up at Marina. “Is her mask usually purple?”

“Oh—yeah,” Marina nodded. “It’s—uh, it’s hereditary, I think.”

“Ahh, I see.” She nodded slowly, giving Margin a thoughtful look up and down. “Could I get a closer look at your hand, dear? Your right one?”

Her right one…? _Oh._ The injured one. Margin hadn’t thought too much about it despite how much it hurt, because _everything_ felt like a lot today and she hadn’t pinned it on that at all. There was no point making a fuss, and she was too tired to, so she held it out for the doctor to gently take hold of and examine.

“Hmm…” Her brow furrowed. That probably wasn’t a good sign. “How old is this cut?”

“Uh… yesterday.”

“I see…” Dr Hammond continued to look at it closely, which was a little unnerving. “Hmm… it looks pretty badly infected for only being a day old. I’d wager that’s what’s making you so ill. In fact, I’d be half tempted to send you to the ER, but I have the feeling you wouldn’t be too happy about that.”

Margin didn’t know what the ER was, but that statement alone made her decide she didn’t want to go there.

“I should have some strong antibiotic cream you can use,” she continued, letting go of Margin’s hand at last and tapping her fingers against the mattress thoughtfully. “… I might be a moment, there’s quite a few stairs in this building and it’s in my car. It _should_ help clear up the infection, but if you don’t see any difference within a day or so, let me know and we’ll try something else, because the last thing you want is this turning septic.”

She left the room, presumably to get aforementioned cream, which left Margin alone with Marina. She was not happy about that, especially when Marina didn’t conveniently leave along with the doctor and instead took her previous seat on the mattress. “How did you get it?”

“What?”

“The cut on your hand. I thought it was from when you fell earlier, but—what were you doing yesterday?”

Trust Marina to be nosy as usual and wanting to know everything Margin was up to. It wasn’t like Margin could _tell_ her. “None of your business.”

“Margin. If it’s put you in this state so fast, I need to know.” Marina gave her a stern look. “Was it from something in the hotel? Outside?”

“It was just a _can_.” That was all Marina needed to know. It was a simple enough explanation. She didn’t need to know the rest.

“A can? I didn’t think you ate any of the canned food, unless you’ve been sifting through the…” Marina had clearly put two and two together. “Trash. The junkyard. That’s where you got hurt, isn’t it?”

“Sure. Maybe.”

“Didn’t you clean it after?”

“Eventually.”

“How much later is _eventually_?”

“I don’t know! When I got back. A few hours later.” Margin really wanted Marina to leave her alone. Being _reasonable_ was so draining. “It didn’t look that bad. There wasn’t anything in the wound or anything, I thought it was okay.”

“Margin.” Marina gave her an astounded look. “You’ve had a stab wound before, and you don’t know the basics about keeping your injuries clean!?”

“I don’t _remember_ anything from it! I was _stabbed_!”

“ _I’ve_ been stabbed, and I remember basically everything,” Pearl added unhelpfully, appearing in the doorway. Apparently she’d been listening in this whole time. More reasons to hate inklings.

That dragged a guilty look out of Marina, for some reason, but she brushed it off quickly. “Okay, maybe it was just trauma or something, but… keep this in mind for the future. Infected wounds aren’t nice.”

“Yes. I noticed,” Margin muttered sourly, staring at her hand and noticing for the first time how inflamed the injury looked. It really had gotten bad in such a short time… the junkyard was kind of dirty and smelly, but was it really _that_ treacherous that a tiny cut had gained such a bad infection and also made her feel like _this_?

Except… something else had happened after she left. Squidgy had licked her hand.

What she’d learned before, about the creatures outside the barriers of the city having bites that easily got infected, was pulled to the forefront of her mind. _That_ was why it was so bad. Squidgy hadn’t done this on purpose, had he?

No… he wasn’t smart enough for that. If he’d wanted to kill and eat her he was more than capable of doing so. He was just a stupid gross fish who didn’t realise he was immune to whatever was in his saliva that caused this effect in other creatures. It was probably because of all the rotten things he ate.

Suddenly Margin felt a great need to wash her hands again, but the bathroom was so many metres away and she was supposed to be waiting for this doctor to get back and put something on her hand she probably wouldn’t be allowed to wash off, and _ugh_. Fine. She’d washed her hands at least three times since getting back yesterday; that was probably enough.

If there was one thing she had learnt from this, though, it was that she was going to have to be extra careful that this didn’t happen again. Not only was this a terrible experience, but Marina would definitely start to suspect she was up to something.

* * *

“It’d be a lot easier to meet up if we exchanged phone numbers or something,” Ilia suggested, frowning at the answer she’d just written in her notebook. “I mean, you _do_ happen to appear in the library a lot, but I have no idea when you will.”

“Oh,” Miles responded simply, taking the device out of his pocket and staring at it. He’d picked up on what times and days Ilia was usually at the library by now, and often tried to visit during those times, but he supposed he was significantly more unpredictable since he only travelled out to the city when he wanted to. “I think Margin would not like that,” he said out loud without really realising he had done. Imagine if she found out he was in contact with an inkling? He was already risking enough just by being within Ilia’s general vicinity, on the slim chance Margin would decide to go to the library again, and at least then he could feign innocence. He couldn’t do that if he had Ilia’s number on his phone. That didn’t just happen accidentally.

“Who’s Margin?”

The question dragged him out of his anxious thoughts. Mostly because it sounded like a strange question to him; he wasn’t used to people not knowing who Margin was, but he wasn’t sure how he should actually answer that question. He could hardly say _the octarian’s top elite soldier, made with DNA so powerful she was equivalent to part of a great octoweapon,_ or whatever the title was supposed to be. Margin had given herself a few of them over the years. “Um… my… best friend.” That was what she was to him, and that was all that was relevant here.

Surprisingly, Ilia raised an eyebrow, placing her pen down on the paper in front of her so that she could rest her chin on her hand. “Your best friend wouldn’t like if you… had the contact number of someone else?”

“I think it is more… uh… complicated.” He set his phone on the table too, suddenly having the overwhelming urge to fiddle with something and knowing his phone was not the best subject for that, instead turning to the wristbands he’d obtained recently as part of a set with the octo tee. He’d been using his new gear in turf war before coming here, something he was starting to do more frequently now he’d played enough to be able to get the octobrush. Maybe Margin would be happy if he told her that. “She does not know I have been spending time with you.”

“And you think she’d be angry if she found out?”

“Yes.” At least that was a simple enough question to answer.

“She doesn’t sound like a very good friend, then,” Ilia shrugged.

She just didn’t understand. Ilia had never even met Margin. Miles very much intended to keep it that way, though.

Even so, he decided that actually being able to speak to Ilia on a regular basis was worth the risk. After all, it wasn’t as if Margin looked at his phone at all. Ilia had to leave shortly after they exchanged numbers, but promised to ‘shoot him a message’ soon. (She could shoot him? In a message?)

The walk back to the hotel felt quiet and short, and Miles had this feeling that Margin would somehow _know_ where he’d been and who he’d been with just by looking at him. When he was almost home, lost in his thoughts, the sound of an engine almost made him jump out of his skin, thinking it was her bike – but quickly realising it was a different noise. A car drove down the road, slowing considerably when it did a small detour to pass him, and the shark driving offered him a polite smile before she was out of sight.

The sight threw him a little, mostly because there was actually a car on this road. He hadn’t seen anyone driving up here since they’d arrived over a month ago. Strange…

When he arrived at the hotel courtyard, Marina was outside and probably preparing to leave. She was talking to Pearl, who was stood next to her and wearing a helmet with a crown-like pattern painted on in colour that was starting to peel. As they spoke, Marina glanced over and noticed Miles heading for the door, immediately halting whatever their conversation had been. “Oh, Miles! There you are.” She quickly fell into the octarian language he found easier to understand. “ **You haven’t been at the junkyard today, have you?”**

**“No…?”** He’d been there a few days ago, but that was not what she’d asked, so she didn’t need to know that. Some of Margin’s assumptions about Marina might have seemed a little far-fetched, but he was pretty sure the one about her being likely to ban Miles from that place if she found out about the helicopter was correct. Could you even ban someone from a junkyard?

“ **Okay, good,** ” Marina nodded, looking a little relieved. “ **Margin got a small injury there yesterday, and it got pretty badly infected. I’ve had a doctor see to her, but she’s not in great shape. She should be fine in a few days, though. Try and stay away from there, okay? It’s not safe.** ”

Miles stared at her with wide eyes, trying to take all this in. Margin was hurt? Or ill? He couldn’t really tell just from what she’d said, but a doctor could mean either of those – and would she be mad at him for not being here, or noticing, or doing anything to help? Or would she be glad he’d stayed away and not seen her in whatever state she was in? Maybe this meant he would be left alone for a few days.

No. No, no, that was an awful thought to have. He didn’t want Margin to be ill.

“ **Okay** ,” he eventually decided on replying with. He didn’t really want to stay away from his project, but Marina didn’t know about it in the first place. All this meant was that he’d have to be extra careful.

It was odd, though – he’d definitely been nicked by sharp objects in the junkyard before, but none of the injuries had gotten infected. Perhaps Margin just got a particularly bad one.

“ **Good. Oh, and maybe give Margin some space to recover? At least for today. She’s a little off because of it,** ” she said, her words sounding like a warning despite it not being what she’d intended. “ **You ready to go, Pearlie?** ”

The inkling gazed at her, seeming a little lost. “Pretty sure my name was somewhere in that sentence. Was that a question?”

“Oh! Whoops,” Marina giggled, switching back to inkling again. “Sorry, are you ready?”

Miles left them to their travels, stepping into the heavier-feeling-than-usual air of the hotel as he made his way back to his room. Fortunately he didn’t have to pass Margin’s door to get there, because he didn’t feel like having the mental debate of whether he should check on her or not.

There was only one more thing to add to his long list of loud thoughts by now, and that was… he didn’t know why Margin had even been at the junkyard. Was she looking for him? If she was, she could just send him a text – hopefully she couldn’t see from her own phone who his contacts were, but he didn’t _think_ that was the case – and he couldn’t imagine how she would have received an injury just from doing that. As far as he knew, Margin hadn’t been back to the junkyard since she got her bike working. She hated the place.

So _what_ had she been doing there? There was no use in asking, unless he wanted her mad at him again, which he didn’t. He had a small worry, a sneaking suspicion, that she might have been up to something and wasn’t telling him.

Or, maybe he was overthinking this entirely. The junkyard was just as described; a load of old junk. Besides, he didn’t want Marina to know _he_ was going there, and he wasn’t _plotting_ anything, he was just curious if he could fix a complex piece of machinery. There was absolutely nothing for him to worry about.

If only his feelings could match his thoughts…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was shorter than I remember it being but Miles have friend :]


	21. For Your Consideration

Jake leaned in a little closer to the screen, trying to hear the voice of the announcers he didn’t remember the names of. The audio was crunchy and drowned out by everything in the surrounding area, from the crowds to the clattering of cutlery to the wind, and he quickly gave up on trying to work out what was being said about his brother’s team. “You know it would be a lot easier to hear _and_ see the match on, like, television, right?”

“It would, but here we have _food_ ,” Callie protested, tapping her nails against the mug in front of her that Jake was worried she might knock over by accident.

“… There can be food at home? This place does take-out.”

“But the _fresh_ _air_ , Jakey,” she pouted, proving that she had not, in fact, thought this through entirely, which was why they were sat at one of the tables outside a café in the square watching league matches on the A5-sized screen of her tablet. “Besides, the match will be over if we go anywhere.”

“True, true.” He would let her keep some of her dignity, for now, and not spend any longer pointing out her slight lapse in logic which had led them to this situation. Honestly, he didn’t really care that much about what the commentators were saying, but he enjoyed watching Rollo and his team play, especially when they were up against a team with a high league power.

It was a month and a half into the league tournament, and Team Geode still had among the highest league power out of everyone; it was almost guaranteed they’d make the quarter-finals, if they didn’t slack within the next week or so. Jake couldn’t decide if he was proud of his brother, or jealous. He still hadn’t managed to get above S+0 in any of his ranked modes.

Either way, Rollo was doing well this match, flanking around the sides of Mako Mart and taking out three of the other team while Ada easily outpaced their sniper, solidifying their hold on the zone as the penalty timer at the top of the screen ran out and their number continued to lower. The other team had taken it at some point, but only for a few seconds, leaving their counter at a measly 96, versus 35-and-counting. It looked like Team Geode had this one in the bag.

“Yes!” Callie cheered when the count reached zero and the ‘Game!’ tape appeared on the screen. “I’ve never actually watched Rollo play before, other than that one splatfest. He’s _good_. I guess that’s to be expected, though, being an agent and all.”

Jake nodded wordlessly, remembering how terrifying Callie and Marie had been on that one time they all played together – well, mostly Marie, Callie had spent a lot of her time gawking at the splatfest atmosphere. He watched the screen for a moment, twitching his ears as he tried to listen for if Team Geode was going to appear in the next broadcasted match as well – apparently not, from the on-screen text – and then sat back at last, feeling the slight ache from sitting in that slouching position in order to see the screen. Callie was finally eating her food, which must have been cold by now after how much she’d been focusing on watching the match, so Jake mindlessly looked around at the square. The area near the lobby was bustling as usual, and the Crust Bucket across from here was starting to clear up now it was getting later than the average lunch time. A familiar outfit caught his eye outside the stores, and he recognised Eight there, standing by herself and looking a little unsure. Her gaze met his for a moment, and he offered a small wave, which was quickly returned; she glanced around again quickly before making her way over.

“Hey, Eight,” Jake greeted her, sitting up a little straighter and telling himself it wasn’t just because Eight was rather tall compared to him. “You alright?”

“Yes, thank you,” she nodded. “Hello, Jake, and… um…”

“ _Karley_ ,” Callie emphasised with a wink from behind her shades and an enthusiastic wave. “Hi!”

“Are you doing league today?” Jake asked, just because she was here now and he wasn’t really sure what else to talk about.

“Later, I think.” Eight was still looking across the clearing, as if she was searching for someone. “Is… it considered rude to go up and speak to someone?”

“Oh, you’re not being rude, we _know_ you!” Callie reassured her through a mouthful of cold sandwich.

“Oh, no – I mean, I appreciate it, but—there’s—I wondered if it would be rude of me to speak to Anten. I think they might be eating? Would that make it impolite?”

_Anten?_ Jake vaguely recognised the name, and tried to follow where Eight was looking until he finally felt a spark of recognition from someone sat alone at a table at the Crust Bucket. It was the really tall and chill-looking octoling he’d seen in the domes and the hotel; they were looking at something on their phone while eating a small waffle. “You can always go up and ask if they’re busy,” Jake shrugged eventually, figuring that was the best course of action for her to take.

“Alright.” Eight gave a small nod. “Thank you, for your help.”

Jake watched her go, figuring that nothing too bad would probably happen from that encounter because Anten had seemed like a nice person, even if Jake hadn’t been able to understand much of what they said at the time.

Callie took a sip from her mug, placing it down on the table with a few too many tapping noises. “Anten, huh? That’s that one octoling we saw, right?”

“I think we saw more than one octoling,” Jake pointed out teasingly. “We also just saw Eight.”

“You know what I mean!” she tutted, nudging his arm with her elbow. She looked across the square to where the tall octoling was seated. “… Do you think they’re single?”

“Callie.”

“What?” She brought the mug back to her face, hiding her innocent grin. “I am just asking a _hypothetical_ question.”

* * *

Time had passed quickly during the tournament, with every day spent doing as many matches as her team could handle outside of work hours, and Eight was pretty pleased with how high their league power was. They were hovering near the top 8 constantly, and once or twice they actually made it to 8th place before another team would gain a higher score and replace them. Perhaps if they made the extra effort before the season ended, they’d manage to stay in there… but either way, they were still doing _well_.

Right now, Eight had things other than the league tournament on her mind, and it was because she’d finally spotted Anten again. She hadn’t seen them since the first day the octolings from the hotel had been into the city, and that was over two months ago now. There were a lot of things she wanted to ask them about, partially about pronouns – she hadn’t spoken to anyone except Three about that still, and considered bringing it up again with Jake just now, but Callie was with him and she didn’t really want the idol to overhear her insecurities, even if she often wore them on her sleeve by accident – but there was another, more specific thing she wanted to know, and Anten was the only person she even vaguely knew who might be able to answer her question.

She’d had a lot of time for thinking, and a lot of time for her sleep to be scattered with nightmares she couldn’t put a source to.

Anten looked a little different than the last time she’d seen them, and she would’ve glanced over them entirely if not for the noticeable hole in their ear and the lack of hair on that side, but the stubs of the sealed tentacles were now covered by a zig-zag patterned Yamagiri beanie. They donned an n-pacer sweat and inky kid clams, and a rather large case was underneath their seat – some kind of splatling, a ballpoint judging by the size and shape.

They’d finished eating by the time she approached, instead sitting back and gazing around the square but quickly noticing the young octoling heading in their direction. “Hello,” they greeted, after a quick glance around to make sure she wasn’t expecting anyone else to be here. “I think… Eight…?”

She nodded. “Can I talk to you? To ask something? If you are busy, that’s fine.”

Anten gave her a surprised look. “No. Uh—yes? You can. I am not busy.” They pushed one of the chairs across the table out from under it with one foot, causing it to scrape on the ground. “If you want to be… seat taking…? **Is that the right phrase…?** Um—sorry. You can sit, if you want.”

“Thank you.” Eight definitely sympathised with the difficulties picking up on a whole new language. She slid down into the empty seat, hoping their uncertainty was just from trying to think of the correct words and not because they didn’t want to speak to her. “… You can speak in octarian, if that’s easier,” she added quietly. “I understand it fine, I just cannot speak in it.”

“ **Well, at least I sort of know the inkling language now** ,” they said with a smile. “ **That _is_ strange, though. Do you know why?**”

“No.” Eight looked down at the table. “I thought, maybe… you might have some idea?”

“ **Me**?” Anten pointed to themself with a raised eyebrow. “ **Hmm… I’m not sure. You can hear the words, and you know what they mean, but you can’t say them yourself? Can you try?”**

“Um—maybe?” Eight didn’t know _how_ to try. “Like… what?”

Anten shrugged. “ **Repeat after me, I suppose. Try saying ‘hello, my name is Eight’.** ”

Eight listened, took in their words, and tried her best to copy the sound of them. “ **Hello, my name is Eight.”** She blinked in surprise. This was the first time she’d been able to speak octarian words since… well, as long as she could remember.

**“So you _can_ do it.” **Anten clapped their hands together, leaning on the table. “ **Perhaps you just need more practice, like us learning inkling. Although, I suppose if that was the case, you wouldn’t be able to understand what I’m saying…”**

“I suppose so.” Eight touched her side of the table gingerly as it creaked a little under the weight being put on it, but it didn’t seem in any danger of falling over.

“ **Has anything happened that might have effected your speaking ability?** ” they asked. “ **Like a head injury, for instance?** ”

“I did lose my memories, for a while.” Eight didn’t know if Anten knew of the metro, and it was likely they didn’t, so she didn’t go into any more detail. “I think I got back the ones I lost then, but I do not remember anything from the domes. Not clearly, anyway.” She thought she could remember what the domes had looked like, but now she’d been down there a few times, she couldn’t tell what was a memory from years ago and what had been filled in by newer experiences.

“ **Were you a soldier?** ”

“I don’t know.” Eight let out a small sigh, pressing her thumbs together. “I hoped you might have known, if you recognised me at all.”

Anten took a moment to process her inkling words – this was such a strange language barrier to have – but they gave her a long, thoughtful look. “ **… I don’t think so. I’d never seen you before the day Marina helped us get out. I didn’t know _every_ octoling, though, so that might not mean anything.**”

“Right… thank you, anyway.” Marina, Miles and Anten all didn’t recognise her, and she was starting to run out of people she could ask, other than any random octoling she met on the street, which was a nerve wracking thought. Perhaps being zapped into the metro really had damaged her somehow, and she just happened to have been able to remember what happened just before then, and the rest was gone forever, along with her ability to speak the language she must have been taught.

“ **No problem. Sorry I couldn’t be more help,** ” Anten gave a half-hearted smile and a small wave of their hands. “ **… Before you go, though, try saying that sentence in octarian again? The one you said earlier.** ”

Okay, that was simple enough, she’d done it just now. Except, this time, when Eight opened her mouth to speak, the words wouldn’t come to her. It was like she couldn’t remember what they were, except she _knew_ them, but why couldn’t she just say them _out loud_? She closed her mouth again after a few seconds so she didn’t end up looking like a helpless fish, sinking a little in her seat.

“ **Hmm. Perhaps you could do it before because you were just using your echoic memory.** ” Anten tapped their fingers against the table. “ **I’ve never heard of anything like this before, but at least octarian isn’t too useful now?”**

“I guess so.” She didn’t really _need_ to speak it, they were correct – and she didn’t particularly want to. It was just the fact that this _happened_ that bothered her, and she was starting to wonder if she wanted to find out the reason why after all.

* * *

It was always disappointing waking up from a dream about kissing a cute girl, to realise she was just alone, in an old shack, and with a familiar headache pounding in her brain. Faye was having more and more stupid gay dreams, but on the bright side, this was definitely favourable over nightmares. The main difference was that one made her wish she could’ve stayed asleep longer.

Faye lay there, bundled in her blanket that she still felt like she needed to return someday, trying to find any motivation to get up. It was yet another day with nothing, because Eight’s offers to hang out had started to become few and far between as they got further into league season, and the only other thing Faye even went out for was to buy food. Which… she probably needed to do today, because she was out of bread again and almost out of everything else. Sigh.

She sat up slowly, pressing a hand to the side of her head in the hopes it would ease the pain, even though she could hardly ever tell if it did. She could barely even feel anything on that side in the first place. There was still some paracetamol left from the batch Marie had given her, and with her own anxiety over medication, Faye only ever resorted to using it when her headaches got _really_ bad, but she hadn’t, like, _died_ yet, so perhaps she could take some today just to make the grocery run a less miserable experience.

Her phone sat charging on the nightstand, quiet and dormant. Occasionally it would hold a message when she woke up, but today was not one of those days, and Faye couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment. Marie was incredibly busy in recent times too, preparing for her concert at the league finals, and while Faye understood completely, she still wished she could see her more often. Being able to talk with her over messages occasionally was nice, of course, but she longed for more casual company like when she’d walked to the store with her.

Faye really wanted to be able to hold her hand again.

Pining wasn’t going to get her food, though. Faye sucked in a deep breath, wincing as that seemed to make her headache fiercer, and decided it was time to do something about that. She checked her phone anyway, seeing nothing but the fact it was 11:59AM currently and deciding to send Marie a quick message saying good morning because it was still, legally, morning, and then finally dragged herself out of bed to get some pain relief.

The thought crossed her mind, as she downed her glass of paracetamol-infused water, that perhaps she should check in with Eight too, partially because she felt a little bad that her crush made her have a slight favouritism even if there was no way Eight would know (and they probably wouldn’t mind, either, but did Eight even know anything about crushes?), but there was still that lingering thought in her mind that Eight didn’t _need_ her. They were doing well with their team, and Faye could tell because she’d finally decided to fight her phone and download the SplatNet app to keep track of the high scores for the tournament.

Looking at the leaderboard, the teams there – ugh, Four – made her wonder what she’d be doing now if she wasn’t stuck here with awful migraines and an inability to do three matches without passing out. She’d been _good_ at turf war a few years ago, and considered stepping into ranked at some point, but the only thing that held her back was being too busy with agent work. Her time as Agent 3 was pretty much over now, but it had left her unable to return to that old pastime. Would she have been taking part in this tournament now? Perhaps she might have been scoped out by one of the league teams for her skills, and she’d be out there playing matches with them instead of stuck here, sleeping all day, alone in a place hardly anyone knew existed.

She was overthinking everything again, letting herself fall into that spiral. Faye pinched the bridge of her nose, willing the paracetamol to kick in already. Fresh air would help, maybe.

The feeble buzz of her phone caught her attention, and she glanced over to see its notification light flickering. It was silly, really, how much that alone was able to lighten her mood, when it was just Marie responding to her text and probably not even with any real meaningful conversation, just saying good morning back even though it was now _not_ , legally, morning. Even so, that was all it took to bring a small smile to Faye’s face.

She didn’t really care if it was silly. It made her feel better, no matter how small it seemed, and that… that was nice.

* * *

Margin didn’t bother to hide her grimace as she watched Squidgy chew through his lunch, which today was one of the little lizard things with an extra limb protruding from its shoulder. It wasn’t the first one Margin had seen in this forest, but it was definitely the closest one had gotten to attacking her, before Squidgy pounced on it and turned it into a meal. She didn’t want to think too much into whether that was technically cannibalism, or what would’ve happened to her if Squidgy hadn’t been there.

The infection he’d given her cleared up after a few days – thank goodness, because Margin did _not_ want to go to an inkling hospital – and Squidgy had looked just as oblivious to her words as usual when she’d finally returned and chastised him for almost killing her. He really was just a dumb beast who didn’t realise what borderline _poison_ he had. Margin made sure to keep him away from any scratch or scrape she picked up after that.

Over the past month, she’d spent a lot of her time out here, now that the journey was shorter and required less fuel – and she’d long since stopped wearing her helmet, because it was uncomfortable and she didn’t care for Marina’s _rules_. She brought both her notebook and sketchbook with her, switching between which she used for what purpose a little too much to the point where it was somewhat disorganised and a lot of her sketches were backed by lines, but she had a _lot_ of notes on Squidgy by this point. Among other things, she’d learned that he could _climb_ ; the claws on his webbed feet were sharp, and he could dig them into the bark of trees to pull himself up with relative ease, which he must have done a lot in his old home. He was also _very_ sensitive to sound, and would immediately come over to investigate whenever Margin’s phone made a noise on the rare occasion Miles would text her. Apparently this forest was close enough to a signal that messages would actually deliver to her phone; Margin started leaving it at the hotel more often after realising that.

Today, Margin sat at the base of a tree, refining one of her older sketches of Squidgy since she was starting to run out of ideas for new things to take notes on by this point. She was still in a slightly sour mood after this morning, when Marina had to fill up her tank again and had started trying to make small talk about what Margin was up to these days, how she still must have been riding a lot because she was using up her fuel pretty fast, and it was so much effort to find ways to respond that didn’t sound _suspicious_ , because _everything_ would sound suspicious to Marina. She always wanted to know everything, from where Margin had been going to how she was finding turf war these days – and no, Marina, she rarely played turf war now, and as soon as she increased her rank for clam blitz she’d have Rank X in every mode. Marina thought that was impressive. Margin did not care what Marina thought.

Squidgy looked half-asleep now that he’d finished eating, splayed out on his side next to the tree trunk and crushing a few of the small plants that poked through the ground. He lifted his head for a moment to yawn, showing off the rows of sharp yellowish teeth in his mouth, and soon plopped it back down on the dry grass in such a way that the top of his head bumped Margin’s leg. She reached over with the hand she wasn’t drawing with to scratch his neck, just behind the fins that framed his face, and he let out a content grumbly purr. His scales weren’t anywhere near as slimy as she’d expected them to be when she first touched them, instead dry and smooth but with a tendency to flake off, meaning she’d always have to brush her hands on something that wasn’t her clothes afterwards.

“I hope Marina gets to see you someday,” Margin muttered as she did so, the victim today being a nearby leaf that instantly became a little more sparkly. “Maybe you can eat her. That’d make life so much better.”

She still hadn’t decided what she was going to do with her research. Roughly once a week she would make a trip down into the domes, and every time the place was silent and devoid of life, with no signs that Octavio had returned even briefly. Margin couldn’t lose hope; she knew he would come back, eventually, and the more she had to offer when he did, the prouder he would be of her and the better chances they would have against the inklings. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem likely that she’d be able to do anything about Agent 3. Margin hadn’t seen any sign of her since she’d been in the domes on Marina’s behalf, and Inkopolis was a big place for one small squid to hide. One day. One day…

There was always the chance she could find a way to bring Squidgy into the city, but she’d have to find some way of getting him past the barrier for that, and despite his size, the place would still be dangerous for him. The inklings were heartless, and they weren’t stupid; there was a giant barrier surrounding the city, they wouldn’t be defenceless.

But what if it wasn’t _just_ Squidgy?

Margin froze with her pen against the paper. There were a lot of beasts out there, in the forest by the canyon – including one that was _very_ large, and definitely a match for anything the inklings could probably throw at it. She flipped back through her book, to a vague sketch she’d made of it near the beginning from memory. It had been highly circumstantial that she’d managed to tame Squidgy, and there was no chance she’d manage to befriend the giant monster – it’d probably crunch through her in one bite like that bird corpse the second she went anywhere near it, if the rest of its pack didn’t make a meal of her first – but maybe she didn’t _need_ to. It didn’t need to be her friend; it just needed to move.

It hadn’t gone anywhere when she was in the forest, though. Maybe it never moved. It was probably too big. Margin looked at the scribbly trees she’d drawn next to it, because its head and the trees were about all she’d been able to see and they also worked as a reminder of its sheer size. Perhaps the giant one would be too difficult to tempt out here, but a few more of those other creatures would certainly wreak some havoc in the city. Margin remembered the fear of being chased through the forest, _hunted_ , by them. The inklings absolutely deserved that and more.

Perhaps it’d even draw out Agent 3.

Margin couldn’t help but smile, a sneer tugging at her face, as she realised that this was the plan she’d been needing for so long. Things were falling into place. She could _do_ this.

All she had to do was work out how.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) I'm sure this will all be fine
> 
> also this was The Time Skip Chapter because padding out all the time between things that happen would be very boring, but about a month has passed


	22. Birds of a Feather

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warnings: manipulation / abusive friendships ?? it was warned at the beginning of the story but this is one of the chapters where it's Particularly Strong

Margin had encountered some pretty bad smells in her life, and for the most part was desensitised to them, because the domes had never been particularly fragrant, especially in the refuse areas, but she was not prepared for the experience of walking into the kitchen on this specific morning.

“ **What the hell _is_ that**!?” She backed out of the door the moment she stepped in, all the tentacles of her hair curling up in disgust. Never in her life had she smelled something so _awful_.

“ **A _really_ bad smell**,” one of the octolings responded nonchalantly; with the numbers here dwindling, it was getting easier to remember names, and Margin was pretty sure this one was called Cecil. They didn’t look any happier about it than she did, but they were a lot better at masking their reaction. “ **One of the cupboards was starting to smell, and I investigated and found there have been eggs here this whole time, and nobody used them, so they went bad.** ”

“ **What do you even _do_ with eggs?**” the other octoling asked; his name was lost on Margin, there was a limit to how many she could remember.

“ **Cook them? I think?** ” Cecil shrugged. “ **One brave soul needs to take these out to the bins before this whole place becomes inhabitable.** ”

Margin looked at the innocent-looking carton on the counter, an idea starting to form in her mind. “ **You’re such a bunch of babies. I’ll do it.** ” In any other case, she would have absolutely left it to them, not wanting to be anywhere near the source of such a terrible smell let alone _touch_ it, but now her brain was buzzing as it tried to connect the dots together and she knew what she had to do.

“ **Our hero** ,” Cecil joked, not seeing through her words.

Margin tried to fight back a grimace, and also her sense of smell, as she picked up the egg carton and carried it outside to where the dumpsters were. This was quite a large box, capable of holding 24 eggs judging by the grooves in the side but the slight weight imbalance suggesting a few of them were missing, so clearly _someone_ had been eating them at some point, probably one of the octolings who left.

When she reached the bins, which didn’t smell a whole lot better, she glanced around to make sure nobody was watching her, then changed direction and headed for the trees instead. She was going to have to put up with this awful smell for a little while longer as she tried to work out where she could hide these.

The extent of the plan she’d managed to make so far was that she was supposed to guide the forest beasts to the city somehow, but she wasn’t sure how to do that. Squidgy, and that other one which had fallen into the canyon, had chased her on her bike, but that was a) dangerous for her and b) unlikely to work, because it was a forty minute drive to the canyon at best and they’d grow exhausted and give up before they got here. But if she could leave some kind of _trail_ to guide them here…

Well, she had a lot of rotten eggs here, and they sure did have a strong smell. A really disgusting strong smell. Perhaps she could wrap one of them up in something and bring it to Squidgy and see how he’d react to it. He liked to eat rotten corpses, after all, so a rotten egg wasn’t _too_ far from that, right?

For now, she needed to find somewhere to store these eggs where nobody would find them, which might be more difficult than expected, because they did smell _very_ _strong_ and _very_ _bad_. There was definitely one place around here that Margin associated with bad smells, though, so perhaps the overall musk of the junkyard would be enough to disguise it.

… Maybe she should hide them just outside somewhere, actually, because Miles still frequented the yard, and she didn’t want to suffocate him with rotten egg smell. Or for him to find them.

Margin took a slight detour around the junkyard, finding a pile of rocks where one was dislodged and created a nice little cavern between them where the carton would fit. Hopefully, these eggs would smell even _worse_ by the time she needed them, and they wouldn’t get picked off by any wildlife on the mountain with no taste buds or manners.

Well, that was a trail sorted; she just had to actually go out there and lay it down sometime, which could wait for now. She would probably have to do that soon, or she would end up running out of fuel again and have to ask Marina for more, again, and that was enough motivation to get this over and done with.

She wasn’t sure what would happen if Marina got eaten by a fish-beast, but… losing her fuel rights would have to be a reasonable price to pay for that.

Getting the beasts to come out of the forest was another roadblock, though. Margin didn’t particularly want to go back into that place just to lay down a few rotten eggs, and they’d probably get masked by everything _else_ in there with a funky smell attached. The last time she’d been there, the rev of her engine had been enough to alert them, so perhaps she just needed to make another loud noise. Preferably one which didn’t put her right next to the dangerous monsters.

The junkyard was right here. Margin decided to poke around for anything that could potentially make some noise, ideally with no cans involved this time.

There was no sign of Miles today, but a quick check of the secluded area he worked on his helicopter project in showed that there were significantly less pieces lying around than the last time she’d been here. Maybe he was almost done? She’d have to check up on that at some point, find out if he was having any success. A few minutes of looking at the piles of old junk from a safe distance led her to a beaten-up stereo with a large crack down the side, which must have no longer worked if it had been tossed here, but at the very least it seemed to be battery-powered since there was no cable attached. Margin had no doubt that Miles would be able to fix it so that it could at least make _some_ noise. She just had to find him and ask.

She left the stereo at the side of the entrance to the yard where she’d be able to find it again and hurried back to the hotel, hoping nobody had noticed how long she’d been gone when she was supposed to just be throwing a carton of eggs in the trash, but nobody stopped to question her. Margin’s first priority was going back to her room to wash her hands, because they still smelled like rotten eggs and it was _awful_ and she wanted to not experience that smell for as long as possible before she’d inevitably have to again.

A few minutes later, she was outside her friend’s door. “Miles?” she called, knocking a few times. He didn’t respond; he must have been out. Margin took her phone out of her pocket to send him a message, because this was _important_ and she _needed_ him here.

As soon as she sent the message, she heard the ping of the notification sound from within his room. Wherever he’d gone, he’d left his phone behind. Why did he have to be so _inconvenient_?

Margin let out an exasperated sigh. Okay, if he wasn’t here and he wasn’t at the junkyard, he was probably in town, at the library or something. He wouldn’t be that hard to find.

* * *

“Hey. Hey Ilia. Bet you can’t go over the bar.”

“Harper, in case you forgot, I only have _one_ _hand_. If I try that I’m gonna fall off.”

“Hmph, fiiine. I bet I could do it.” Harper seemed dedicated to her self-assigned challenge, using her legs to create the momentum for the swing to go higher.

Miles watched her from his own swing, one meant for younger creatures that he’d only managed to fit into by changing into octopus form and curling his limbs around the supports so he didn’t slide out. “I do not think it is scientifically possible for you to go over,” he pointed out. “You would not go fast enough?”

“See? Miles is smart. He knows these things.” Ilia nodded. “C’mon, Harp, you’re just gonna end up hurting yourself. You gotta do league matches after this.”

Harper looked at her for a moment, as if weighing up her options, then finally sighed and stopped her swing, causing her shoes to scrape on the spongy ground. “Okaaay, I _guess_. But just for the record, _I_ still think I could’ve done it.”

“I’m sure you can defy physics if you really put your mind to it,” Ilia smiled. “I gotta get home soon, too. Miles, you want us to walk back to the library with you?”

“Okay!” He slithered out through one of the gaps around the seat so he could transform back to octoling form and not get stuck. Over the past month, he’d seen a lot of Ilia and Harper, and occasionally their other friends if they happened to be around; Jake, sometimes, who Harper claimed had excellent taste in music, and on the rare occasion Eight would be there as well. Miles still didn’t know who Eight was, or where she had come from, but at least she was friendly.

“Don’t tell either of them I said this,” Ilia had spoken quietly to him at one point, “but I’m, like, seventy percent sure Harper has a crush on Eight.”

“… She will _crush_ her?” Miles had given her a look of alarm. Was Eight in danger? Harper looked pretty strong.

“No, no! No. That’s not what that means.” Ilia giggled as if he’d said something _hilarious_. “You know what? Don’t worry about it. But, like, watch how Harper acts around her next time we see Eight. I bet it’ll be funny.”

That left Miles curious to see what exactly Ilia was talking about, but unfortunately they hadn’t met up with Eight since that secret conversation.

The three of them had visited the park today, a quiet place near the edge of the city that Miles had occasionally walked past whenever he varied up his route a little for the sake of exploration. He wouldn’t have said the place was hugely interesting – a small playground wasn’t much compared to the stages in turf war, and apparently this place was made for cephalopods half their age but there was _technically_ no law saying they couldn’t hang out here (it definitely wasn’t one Marina had mentioned). It was still nice to spend time with his friends, though, and Harper especially had been busy with the tournament.

Miles had been playing a decent amount of turf war on his own, and now as they left the park he hoisted the case for his octobrush onto his shoulders. He only had time to play a few matches this morning, and considered whether he wanted to go back and do more or just head home once he split off from the group. Perhaps a _few_ more? He pushed the octoglasses more firmly up onto his forehead; he’d started wearing these instead of the default headband, and though it did make it a little harder to see sometimes, he liked having them over his face during matches. He got a lot less surprised looks about his missing eye that way.

He was content to let Harper lead the way as she strolled through the fancy gates of the park, not really hanging back out of awkwardness anymore but just because it felt comfortable, he knew the others were aware he was with them and they wouldn’t leave him behind. Things were nice here, there was nothing to worry about, he felt _happy_.

“ _Miles_!”

How quickly that could crumble into dust.

* * *

Margin hadn’t spent long searching; Miles was not at the library today, and as soon as she realised this she left the place because she _hated_ the library, so her next plan of action was to go to the lobby and see if the one person on her friends list was listed as being in a match. When she did finally see him, she almost glanced over him completely without realising because he was not where she expected him to be at all.

Walking out of one of the city’s quieter parks with two _inklings_. Margin could not fathom why he would _want_ to spend time with them, so that only left the other option; that they had captured him.

And yet, he flinched when she called his name.

The inklings didn’t seem quite so alarmed at the call, as if they didn’t care they were doing anything wrong. Of course they didn’t. They were _inklings_. Inklings didn’t care about anything except themselves and what stupid song they were going to listen to today, what ugly hat they were going to wear tomorrow.

“What are you _doing_ with him!?” Margin demanded as she stormed up, not afraid of them or anything they might do. She would _never_ be afraid of inklings, no matter their cruelty, despite how a specific one could haunt her nightmares. Neither of these two were Agent 3. That was their only redeeming factor.

The slightly shorter white-haired one did recoil just a little from her aggressive demeanour – that one was missing half an arm, and definitely the weaker of the two. The other one, the orange one with her hair sliced at an angle like a heinous fashion trend, showed absolutely no sign of fear at all, simply staring Margin down with a look akin to if she’d just been asked the time. “Huh?” She glanced around, locating the only ‘him’ Margin could be referring to. “Miles…?”

The other octoling looked thoroughly paralysed with fear. That was what inklings could do to someone.

So, they knew his name. Something was definitely up. Margin scowled. “I don’t know what you want with him, but leave him alone.”

“Uhh…?” The orange one looked thoroughly confused. She was a good actor, Margin would give her that much. “Who are you again?”

“Harper.” To her surprise, it was the white-haired one who spoke up, her voice quiet. “I think… this is Margin.”

“Ohhh!” Harper nodded, like this was someone she had heard about. “Ohh. _Oh_. Okay. _Margin_. I see.”

Margin frowned deeply, narrowing her eyes. “ _Why_ do you know my name?” She directed her glance to Miles.

He broke out of his trance, taking a step back. “ **I-I didn’t tell her**!”

The white-haired inkling gave him an unreadable look, unable to understand the language he was speaking in, and reached out to place her hand on Harper’s shoulder for a moment. “Maybe we should get going.”

“Should we? I guess we should.” Harper glanced around at each of them, as if trying to read the mood. “See ya later, Miles!”

“ _Wait_! What do you mean _see_ _him_ _later_? What are you _doing_ to him!?” Margin wasn’t just going to let them walk off and continue their schemes.

“We’re not _doing_ anything to him,” Harper responded with complete lack of shame, even imitating Margin’s accent a little to repeat it the same way she’d spoken. “He’s our friend. People have _friends_ , dingus.”

Margin didn’t know what that word meant, but it was clearly meant as an insult. “Fine. Let me put this in a way your simple inkling mind can understand.” She took a step forward, trying her best to stare her down, which wasn’t very effective when Harper was almost her height in the first place. Her tentacles waved slowly behind her as she fought to keep them under control, because she did not want to lose her cool here. “If you don’t leave him alone, I will _make_ _sure_ you do.”

Harper, for whatever ungodly reason, just puffed out her cheeks a little, squinting at Margin. “… Are you threatening me? I think you’re threatening me. That sure did sound very threatening, which I think threats usually do. Was that a threat? Tell me that was a threat.”

“Oh, for the love of—” This inkling was trying to wind her up, and she was _succeeding_ , and Margin was _infuriated_ by this and not showing that was _so difficult_.

“You _are_ threatening me!” Harper stared at her with wide eyes for a moment, and though Margin expected to see fear in them, there was none. In fact, Harper just hopped on the spot. “Wow, that’s _exciting_! I’ve never been _threatened_ before. Do it again!”

“Harper,” the white inkling said, a quiet warning.

Harper waved her off. “It’s _fine_ , she’s not even scary!” She spoke as if Margin was just some kind of apparition, like she wasn’t actually _there_ and able to hurt her. “What’s the matter, jerk-face? You look mean. You _sound_ mean, too. Threatening people isn’t nice.”

“Oh, you want to talk to me about being _nice_?” Margin’s hair flared angrily. “Stop _using_ my friend! I don’t know what you want him for, but it ends _now_!”

“Ooh, your hair went all poofy!” Harper’s attention was instantly drawn to that instead, like the dense inkling she was. “I wish my hair could move like that.” She reached out a hand, almost subconsciously, as if she was about to touch it.

“ _Stay away from me_!” Margin snapped, lashing out as the inkling finally pushed her over the edge. She was done being civil with this abhorrent creature, and she deserved whatever consequences came from her actions.

Harper had fast reflexes. She easily snatched her arm back to avoid Margin’s swipe, hopping a few feet away. _Finally_ , she looked a little surprised. “Don’t _attack_ me!”

Margin very much wanted to do just that, to lunge at her and throw her to the ground and squeeze the life out of her body _just like she’d almost succeeded in doing to Agent 3_. She had enough restraint to hold off for now, in the middle of the city, no matter now quiet this street was. Instead, she picked an easier target, rounding on the one-armed inkling who was still slightly blocking her path to Miles, further proving Margin’s suspicions. “ _Get away from him, you inkling scum_!”

“Leave Ilia _alone_!”

The shout didn’t register nearly as much as the force against her side, shoving her off-balance and sending her against the hard concrete path.

Margin caught herself, rolling with the impact and back on her feet in an instant. This was nothing to her. Her training _made_ this _nothing_.

She didn’t care that they were in the city now. The inkling had made the first move. Her hair spiked with fury as she poised to lunge at her.

Harper looked ready for a fight this time, finally serious, stood in such a way that she blocked the path to her friend. She was going to _regret_ _that_.

“ **Margin, wait!** ” Miles’ panicked voice brought her back to her senses. He slipped past the inklings without any real protest, physical or verbal, from either of them. “ **We can—we can go, they’re not doing anything, they haven’t done anything to me.”** That was a lie. He was shaking so much.

“ **That’s what they _want_ you to think,**” Margin scorned, not backing down from her current stare-off. She wouldn’t let them get away with this. Not only was she angry about what they’d done to Miles, she could still feel the slight bruising pain in her side where Harper hit her.

That didn’t bother her. She was _strong_. Pain was nothing to a soldier formed from the limb of a great leader.

It was unnervingly close to where the injury she’d gotten from Agent 3 was, though. Yet another reminder of how awful inklings could be. How awful they would _always_ be.

“ **Margin, _please_.**” Miles grabbed her arm, gently, and it took all of Margin’s will to not violently shake him off. “ **They—they’re—they can’t do anything to you, you’re too strong.** ”

He was _right_. The inklings must have known this as well; that was why neither of them made a move to attack her again. They would know better in future than to mess with Miles. Margin scowled at them. “Fine. Let’s go,” she spoke in such a way the lowly inklings would understand her.

She didn’t move, not wanting to turn her back. Ilia gently pulled at Harper’s sleeve to tell her to go; Harper glared at Margin, but listened to her friend, and the two of them walked away hastily, Ilia occasionally glancing back over her shoulder. Harper didn’t look back.

Margin wanted to use that to her advantage, but she held back on account of Miles still clinging to her arm. She shook him off, as carefully as she could, and he instantly pulled back as if he’d been burned.

Once Margin deemed the inklings to be a safe distance away, she finally turned and began the walk back to the hotel. “ **Come on, Miles. Let’s go.** ”

He took a moment to follow her. “ **R-right. Okay.** ”

“ **Stay away from them in future.”** Margin didn’t know why he’d been with them; the inklings must have pulled him into something, because surely Miles wouldn’t hang out with them on his own accord. **“They just want to use you.** ”

Miles let out a small sigh. “ **Yes. Yes, of course.** ”

* * *

A silence had never felt so heavy as Miles obediently followed after his best friend. Every step felt like a mile, and despite how much more active he was now, his legs were tired and achy by the time they were half way up the mountain.

He’d messed up. He knew he had. Inklings were bad, they weren’t to be trusted, they were nothing, and all the other things Margin would say. He was a fool for spending so much time with them.

He also felt incredibly bad, remembering the silent fear in Ilia’s eyes when Margin threatened them, the way Harper had _glared_ which he’d never seen her do in the short time he’d known her, because as far as he could tell Harper never had animosity towards anyone.

And Margin… he’d never seen her that furious before. Angry, of course, and often at him, but never on the verge of _attacking_ someone, even if he knew she’d certainly done that before.

Perhaps he should just consider himself lucky that Margin had been mad at _them_ , for being inklings, rather than suspecting he had been spending time with them of his own accord.

“ **What were you doing with them?** ”

He was not so lucky after all.

Miles was quiet for a long moment, trying to decide how to respond now that Margin had finally spoken, and already missing the crushing silence of the walk up until now. Should he answer in the hopes that he might get her to understand – unlikely – or just try and guess what she wanted him to say? “ **I don’t know** ,” he said eventually, answering both her question and his.

“ **What did they make you do?** ”

“ **Nothing, really.** ”

Margin looked at him through narrowed eyes, and Miles couldn’t meet her gaze, unable to tell if she was finding the holes in his weak excuses or trying to decipher some complex plan she thought Ilia and Harper might have had. “ **Don’t go near them again. Don’t talk to them. Inklings can’t be trusted.** ”

“ **I know. I’m sorry, Margin.** ”

“ **Good**.”

He realised after a while that they weren’t on the path to the hotel, but he didn’t speak up about it. Margin seemed oddly calm now, which was unnerving, but he didn’t want to risk breaking that by questioning her. Fortunately, she explained herself a few minutes later.

“ **I need you to fix something** ,” she told him, sounding more like her usual self. “ **It’s at the junkyard, I’ll show you where.”**

That was… interesting, but not enough to lift the suffocating atmosphere he felt around him. “ **Okay**.” If he did this for her, she probably wouldn’t be mad at him for earlier.

Would Ilia and Harper be mad at him? Would they blame him for what happened? He didn’t want them to be mad at him.

He wasn’t supposed to care, though. They were inklings.

The walk to the junkyard felt longer and more taxing than usual, even after the added trek from the city. Margin hardly seemed to notice, despite the tussle she’d been in. Once they were there, she brought him somewhere barely even inside, pointing at something on the ground.

“ **Here. It’s just an old stereo. I don’t need it to read a signal or anything, just as long as it can make noise. The louder the better.** ”

Miles was so overcome by his confusion, the absurdity of her request, that his anxiety was briefly forgotten. “ **Why…?** ”

“ **I just need it for something, that’s all** ,” Margin responded unhelpfully, in a tone of voice that told him not to pry further.

She was up to something, and she didn’t want him to know what, and that scared him. All he could do was agree, though. He didn’t have the energy for another one of her outbursts today. “ **Okay**.”

“ **Cool. Work your magic and let me know when it functions.** ” Margin stepped away – finally, she was going to leave him alone – but hesitated. “ **Miles… you’re on my side, right?** ”

“ **Of course,** ” he responded quickly, mostly out of self-preservation by this point. What were the sides? Margin or the inklings? Margin or Marina? Margin or literally anyone else?

His best friend who made him feel like this, or his lesser, inkling friends in the city who he actually enjoyed spending time with?

“ **Alright. Good.** ” Margin didn’t offer a friendly smile, only nodding, like she’d asked for a maintenance check. “… **Thanks**.”

Miles spent the rest of the day alone at the junkyard, wishing his old muse would return to him just from looking at this old stereo, but the usual urge to take everything apart felt smothered, muted. He sat for a long while just staring at the guts of the machine, weighed down by the weapon case he hadn’t had a chance to take back to his room. Eventually he managed to arrange everything in a way he was pretty sure would work, once it had some batteries – Margin would have to sort that part out herself, he didn’t have any – and decided to leave it here for Margin to pick up, since it was still dirty junkyard scrap and there wasn’t rain in the forecast tonight.

When he returned to the hotel, much later than he needed to, he found her in her room, scribbling away in her notebooks as usual. He didn’t step past the doorframe, telling her the update and the battery requirement; she thanked him and actually offered a smile this time, which he couldn’t tell if looked a little more twisted than normal.

He didn’t want to think too much into what Margin was doing. If she didn’t want him to know, she’d leave him out of it.

There were multiple messages on his phone when he returned to his room, and he silently prayed that Margin hadn’t walked past his locked door when any of them had been delivered. He muted the device as fast as he could.

He had messages from Ilia, asking if he was okay. If he was safe.

He quickly responded yes – because why wouldn’t he be? – and told her that he wouldn’t be able to meet up anymore. _Sorry._

The word echoed around his mind for the rest of the evening, and the more he thought about it, the more he realised that ‘unsafe’ perfectly described how he felt around Margin, but there was nothing he’d be able to do about it.

Maybe she was wrong. Perhaps some of the inklings were nice, perhaps Marina wasn’t planning some great scheme (to do what, exactly?), perhaps this really could be a wonderful new life on the surface with no octoling army and no great war.

He didn’t have the courage to debate with Margin, though, not when the fury he’d seen earlier could so easily turn on him instead. Miles slid his phone into his pocket, making a mental note that he would need to keep it on him at all times now, because if Margin found out he still wanted to talk to his friends… he didn’t want to think about the consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Margin is very dense and also not a very nice person :(


	23. Last Ditch Effort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha like the ability
> 
> content warnings for this chapter: vague suicidal ideation, a brief mention of periods ? and also some unrelated Violent Thoughts, because Margin

“Chance, get your ass in here!”

“Arty, I am _making_ _breakfast_.” It was rare to hear Chance raise his voice, but he didn’t really have a choice if he wanted to be heard over the noises of the kitchen.

“You’re gonna miss the results!”

“We already _know_ the results!”

“I know, but it’s being announced by _Off the Hook_!”

Eight settled herself further into the corner of the couch, wishing Arty would stop being so loud – and making a mental note to never sit so close to him after he’d just had a shower, because whatever strong-smelling lotion he used to make his hair shinier, he put on way too much of it. Team Mace were gathered in their living room for the announcement this morning, taking up the large right-angled couch as they waited for Pearl and Marina to appear on television after the weather broadcast. The finals were a few too many days ahead to predict the weather yet, but the rest of the week was reasonable.

Chance appeared just as the logo for Inkopolis News appeared on the screen, placing a hefty plate of pancakes on the coffee table along with a stack of plates and forks for them each to use. “Bon appétit.”

“Cool, cool, thanks, now _sit_ _down_ ,” Arty waved a hand at him frantically, leaning to the side to see past him.

Chance rolled his eyes, taking a seat next to Mercedes; Arty had dragged her out of bed for this 9am announcement, and she was still in her pyjamas and dressing gown, tuning the boys out in her half-asleep state.

“Soon as this is over I’m going back to bed,” she mumbled, keeping her voice quiet so as not to interrupt the television even though it was just the introduction so far. “Save some ‘cakes for me, yeah?”

“Yeah. I’ll make sure Eight doesn’t eat them all,” Chance said with a friendly grin in the octoling’s direction. Eight threw him an overly-innocent look.

“It’s March 25th, and you know what that means!” Pearl announced on the screen. “… You know, right, Marina?” Her forgetfulness must have been put on for entertainment, because Pearl _loved_ the league tournament.

“Of course I do, Pearlie! It’s time to announce the quarterfinalists for the league tournament!” Marina clapped her hands together excitedly. “We want to say a big thank you to everyone who participated and made this a great competition!”

“Heck yeah!” Pearl cheered with her television-friendly voice.

“Now, here they are!” Marina used her turntable to change the screen, and a list of eight teams appeared swiftly within animated boxes. There were one or two of them Eight recognised from matches over the month as their power increased, but she couldn’t remember the outcome of said games.

And there, at the end of the list in eigth place: _Mace._

“There we are! That’s us!” Arty pointed excitedly at the screen, as if he hadn’t expected it even though they’d all checked SplatNet once matches closed for the day last night and seen the final scores.

It made it feel so much more _real_ , though, seeing it announced on the news, for everyone to see.

“It sure is,” Merce said with a tired grin. It faded a little. “… Geode was in first, I see.”

She was right. They were at the top of the list, and their power was almost a hundred higher than Team Mace’s. That could have been due to their skill, or perhaps they just played and won more games.

“Hey, maybe they’ll get defeated,” Chance reassured her with a shrug. “… Or we will. We only have to fight a maximum of three teams on that list, so… that’s, like, less than a 50% chance we’ll have to fight them, right?”

“And if we _do_ , we can kick their butts,” Arty smirked, smacking his fist into his palm.

“I think you two are far too optimistic.” Merce gave a dry laugh. “Anyway, we’ll do our best. We made it into the top eight, and that’s a pretty amazing achievement on its own.”

“Yeah! We deserve another pizza night to celebrate,” Arty nodded.

“We can eat pizza _after_ the tournament.”

Eight continued watching the announcement, as Marina explained how the rest of the tournament would go; the quarter- and semi-finals would be done over the course of the next week starting tomorrow, with all matches broadcasted and commentated by Off the Hook. Quarterfinalists would have best of five matches, and semi-finalists best of seven, with the finals being a best of nine, in a single-elimination ruleset. Teams would be paired up based on their league score, to give everyone a fairer chance in the first few rounds.

Then, after a few days break, the finals would be preceded by the Squid Sisters’ concert, and Callie and Marie would be commentating the matches instead. Pearl had offered to get Eight a ticket, ‘even though you totally might just rock the tourney and get to the finals anyway’, but she’d declined; even if they didn’t make the finals – and in eighth place, they weren’t likely to – Eight would rather watch it on stream with her teammates, as much as it would be _amazing_ to see a Squid Sisters concert live. This was the first one they’d done together since Eight arrived on the surface.

After that was done, the announcement changed to the current rotations – Eight didn’t fancy playing today, a break sounded nice before quarterfinals began tomorrow – and Team Mace got on with breakfast (or leaving to sleep more, in Merce’s case), chatting excitedly about their plans for the tournament as they ate.

They’d actually made it.

The next week and a half was going to be simultaneously incredible and terrifying.

* * *

_Card declined._

Hmm. That was not good. Faye stared at the words on screen for a moment as if that would fix things, and when that, surprisingly, didn’t, she took her card out of the reader and re-inserted it, hoping there was just a temporary bug.

_Card declined._

This was _really_ not good. A quick check proved that the date on her card was in fact in a few years’ time, and at least this store had self-checkouts so she didn’t have to have an employee staring at her as she failed to pay for bread and eventually had to give up and return it to the shelf. A short walk to the bank to check her balance proved her fears were true.

Her balance was almost empty. Not even enough to afford a loaf of bread, and bread was pretty damn cheap.

All this time Faye had been living off the money she’d made from turf war years ago – and Eight had taken care of most of the grocery shopping when they lived in the cabin too – but it looked like time was up.

Faye stared at her balance for a long moment, trying her best to fight down the feeling of dread. It was _fine_. She could do _something_ about this, surely. All she needed was enough money to buy food.

Oh, how she really did not want to have to deal with this, but life had to give her no choice.

Absolutely _fantastic_.

Trying her best to brainstorm ideas when she could already feel the migraine for the day coming on, Faye wandered towards the square. She couldn’t play turf war; even if she could hold herself together for a few matches, she didn’t have a turf weapon now, and buying one required _money,_ which she didn’t have.

The display above the lobby showed the current news, which today was the quarterfinalist teams. Was the tournament that far in already? She’d lost track of time. It looked like Eight’s team had made it into the quarterfinals. That was nice. Good for them. Faye was pretty sure one of the other teams was Four’s, but given her past experience with them, she didn’t care nearly as much.

After a few moments the image on the screen changed, this time an announcement for Grizzco Industries saying they were running shifts currently. Faye had never touched Salmon Run, but she knew Eight took a shift on occasion when they wanted the clothes offered as one of the rewards, and from what she’d heard, they paid fairly decently…

Well, it wasn’t like she had any other option.

The corner of the square that Grizzco Industries was set up in was the shadiest part, with more litter scattered on the ground as if the local street cleaners were too scared to get close. Perhaps a regular squid would have been put off by this, but Faye didn’t care; the octarians lived in a place far more unsettling, and her work as Agent 3 numbed her to it. Working for shady businesses was kind of her thing, if the NSS counted. The most unnerving part was stepping into the building and seeing herself in the CCTV footage on at least three of the screens that lined the wall, a sure promise that _someone_ was watching.

“ _Hey, kid_.” The crackly voice emanated from a bear statue on the desk. Whoever ran this place put their money into artwork and not speaker quality, it seemed. “ _You here for work?_ ”

“Yeah.” She didn’t _want_ to be, but here she was. All she had to do was keep things simple, do what bear-voice-man wanted (fight some fish?), and hope the rumours about him paying his workers well for dangerous work was true. Faye could handle dangerous work.

“ _Alright. Just sign in so I know who you are and I’ll see what I’ve got for ya._ ”

She did as he asked, signing into an old rusty screen with the turf account she’d made a few months ago, surprising herself when she remembered the password on her first try. A _[LOADING]_ message appeared on the screen as she waited for Mr Grizz to respond.

“ _No can do, kid. Tough luck._ ”

“Wait, what!?” Faye’s gaze snapped to the bear statue. “Why!?”

“ _First off, you’re level 1. I don’t take newbies. Go play turf war or somethin’ until you learn how to use a gun._ ”

Well, she _supposed_ that was a reasonable assumption, though Faye didn’t really appreciate the patronising talk. “I played back at Inkopolis Plaza, I know what I’m doing.”

“ _Maybe you do_ ,” the voice sounded amused. “ _Maybe you don’t. Either way, it says on your records you managed to trip the health alarm somehow._ ”

Faye stuffed her hands into her pockets so Mr. Grizz wouldn’t see her fists clenching at the reminder. “That was months ago,” she stated, as if it wasn’t likely to happen again.

“ _I don’t have work for anyone who’s set off the alarm in the past six months, kid. It’s too dangerous out there. If I had to get people to sign waivers it’d be bad for business._ ”

“And the side-alley store _isn’t_ bad for business?” Faye scoffed. Her hands were shaking. “I need the money, man, you can throw me into a salmonid war for all I care.”

“ _If you’re broke, that’s not my problem. This is business, kid, not a charity. I don’t recruit out of pity._ ”

Claws of frustration and panic stabbed at Faye’s insides, hitting her with a wave of nausea and making the screens in front of her look a little less attached to the wall. “Fine,” she managed to say eventually, thoroughly ashamed that she’d almost tried to beg the creep for help. This shady place was too suffocating, and she turned and marched out with more confidence than she felt, suddenly needing fresh air more than anything in the world.

Being out in the square didn’t make her feel any better, with the threat of crowds just metres away and the rowdiness that echoed into this run-down corner. Salmon run had been her one possible salvation, and she couldn’t even have that. What was she supposed to do now?

Faye stood near the wall for a moment, trying to take deep breaths, feeling the sting of her nails digging into her palms. Of course things would have to just get _worse_ and there would be _nothing_ she could do about it. Tears burned like fire in the corner of her eyes but she forced them away, because she _couldn’t_ cry, crying just made her _annoying_ and _useless_ and would not help get her out of this. That burning turned to frustration instead, and she lashed out at Grizzco’s open door, causing a resounding _clang_ and the doors to shudder from the impact.

Maybe the bear-voice said something inside about that, but she really didn’t care right now.

All Faye could do was head back to the cabin, see what she even _had_ , and hopefully she’d be able to think of something when the initial shock had calmed down.

* * *

Margin looked under the tarp, checking that the rain from last night hadn’t leaked through. It had, near the edges, but the stereo was safe for now. She still hadn’t checked it actually _worked_ , because she trusted Miles’ talent with electronics, but her plan was to get some batteries today and find out.

It had been a few days since he’d fixed it, and Margin had spent a lot of her time plotting out where the best route to plant 20 very smelly eggs would be. She had many doubts, as to whether it would work or not when they would need to be so far apart, but she’d brought one out wrapped in tin foil to Squidgy yesterday and he’d been so excited about the strong-smelling thing that she felt a little bad not being able to give it to him, because she needed as many as possible. Hopefully the other creatures would be the same.

There was also the matter of how they would get past the barrier. Margin had walked along near it, trying to work out how exactly it functioned, and realised that each spire had wires that led into the ground, probably connected to one another – which meant they were powered by electricity. That was easy enough to get around, with the right help.

Tucking the stereo back near the rocks where the eggs were, and placing stones on the corners of the tarp so it’d stay down, Margin briefly returned to the hotel to wash her hands and grab her bag before making her way down the mountain and into the city. She’d seen batteries in multiple stores before, so it shouldn’t be _too_ hard to find the ones she needed.

Apparently it was harder than she thought. Margin checked in three different shops she knew of, eventually asking the lobster running the last one if he had any, and after a comment that they were a slightly rarer type these days, suggested a store a little ways across town where she might be able to find them. Fortunately, that lobster knew what he was talking about, and she had far more than enough money by now to afford the ones she needed, as well as extras just in case.

Good. This was good. She was one step closer.

Margin made her way back through the quieter alleys, where there were significantly less inkling crowds than the main streets in the city centre often had. As she was walking, though, she caught a glimpse of yellow while passing a fork in the path, a shade she was tuned in to remembering by this point, and froze.

Was that…?

Margin backed up, peering around the corner to make sure she hadn’t been sighted yet.

It was. She stepped forward.

“ _Agent 3_.”

The squid in question halted on her way to wherever she was going, probably realising there were few people who called her that up here on the surface. Margin braced herself, ready to be on the defence if she attacked.

She didn’t. Agent 3 turned to look at her, the look in her eyes unreadable, but not containing the look of fear Margin so longed for. “Oh, wonderful. _Just_ who I wanted to see today.”

Margin scowled, hoping that was sarcasm. She could feel her pulse racing just from the danger she knew she was in, but this… this was her _chance_. This wasn’t a busy street like last time; this was a quiet back alley, with nobody around but them.

And yet she was still afraid. How cowardly of her, being afraid of a lowlife like Agent 3. Margin knew first-hand what she could do, though.

“What, that’s it?” Agent 3 took her hands out of her pockets – she was unarmed – and threw them into the air for emphasis. “If you have nothing to say then fuck off and leave me alone.”

Oh, she had _plenty_ to say, but it was mostly in the form of insults, and she’d much rather hear the life draining out of this awful squid.

Margin took a step forward, feeling her hair writhe and twitch behind her. She wasn’t scared. She _wasn’t_ _scared_. Agent 3 was unarmed and had nothing to defend herself with.

Margin didn’t exactly have a weapon either, though.

“I have nothing to say because you’re _not worth it_ ,” she eventually settled on, managing to make her voice strong.

Agent 3 just laughed. “Great! I’m so glad we’ve established this. Goodbye.” She turned to continue on her way.

That was the greatest insult she could have possibly made.

“Where are you _going_?” Margin demanded, taking a few steps forward so the distance didn’t grow. “Get _back_ _here_!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake—what do you _want_ , Margin?” Agent 3 span around to face her once more, this time with much less patience in both her voice and actions. The move was so sudden she seemed to almost lose her balance for a moment, one of her arms twitching a little towards the nearby wall.

“You _know_ what I want,” Margin snapped, her lip curling a little into a snarl. “I want payback for _everything_ _you’ve_ _done_.” She took another step forward, threatening, because there was _something_ off about Agent 3, something that suggested she wasn’t quite as strong as Margin thought, and that eased the fear she definitely didn’t have. “I could _kill_ _you_ right here and now.”

“Go on, then!” Agent 3 waved her hands in a way that put them at her sides almost like a shrug. There was an unnerving look in her eyes, a wild one Margin didn’t expect. “We’re in the middle of nowhere, go ahead! Just fucking strangle me to death right here! _You’ll be doing me a_ _bloody_ _favour_.”

Margin wanted to. She wanted nothing more than to charge over there and lunge at Agent 3, use whatever means she could to rip the life out of her until she was a lifeless husk on the concrete.

Something held her back, though, and that was that she didn’t understand why Agent 3 would goad her on like that. There must have been something else to this, it was too easy, perhaps there was someone else nearby, or maybe Agent 3 was just pretending to seem weaker than usual so that she could easily overpower Margin and turn the tables on her.

She wouldn’t put anything past her.

When Margin didn’t move, Agent 3 just scoffed loudly. “You can’t even do that. Fucking _useless_ , you are.” She turned and stormed away again, shoulders tense as she stuffed her hands back into her pockets.

_You can’t just let her escape._

_Do something._

_What can I even do? I can’t kill her. Not now._

“Fine, run away!” Margin shouted after her. “Maybe I can’t kill _you_ , but Agent 2 is _far_ _easier_!”

Agent 3 froze so suddenly that Margin saw her hair jerk with the momentum.

Ah. So her observation had been correct. Agent 2 _was_ someone important to her.

“You’re bluffing. You don’t even know where she is.” Agent 3’s voice was low, guarded, so much colder sounding than a moment ago.

“Oh, but I can find out!” This was in fact a complete bluff, because that would require so much work and searching, unless Agent 2 just happened to appear conveniently in front of Margin again – but Agent 3 had no idea. And oh, how _beautiful_ it was. “I know how to find her, and snipers are _so_ easy to overpower, especially when they’re not even armed.”

Agent 3 gave her one more look – and _there_ was the hint of fear in her eyes, finally, and it was _everything_ Margin wanted. She deserved that and so much more. “If you lay a single finger on her,” she spoke slowly, an unmeasurable amount of restrained anger held in her voice, “I’ll gut you like a fucking fish.”

Margin couldn’t help the grin that spread on her face – because now she knew she had the power, and Agent 3 was _scared_ of what she might do. It was a wonderful feeling, knowing that she could finally hurt her so many years after what she’d done to her – and she didn’t even have to _do_ anything!

“I look forward to seeing you _try_ ,” Margin scoffed, a laugh in her voice as she finally backed away. Agent 3 could live, for today. She’d proven herself, that she was just as heartless and awful as Margin knew, and she deserved everything that was coming to her and her stupid friends.

As soon as Margin was out of sight, she took off at a run, not wanting to stick around just in case Agent 3 did decide to attack her after all. If she’d had any doubts about her plan before, they were gone now. Inklings were utter scum, and Margin was going to make sure they were punished for _everything_.

* * *

When Faye finally reached the cabin, the first thing she did was drop down onto her bed, shove her face into her pillow, and scream.

She couldn’t do this. Everything was too much.

All she wanted was for everything to _stop_.

As if having no money was bad enough, she had to deal with that fucking octopus too. Egging her on was a bad idea, she knew, and it was impulsive as hell from her own self-destructive nature she could feel crawling its way back by the second, but then Margin had to go and threaten Marie.

 _You’re not the only one who’ll get hurt._ Callie’s words echoed in her mind again and she was _right_. What if Faye had put Marie in danger just by being an idiot!?

It was a bluff. Faye knew in her mind that it was a bluff, because Margin was just a stupid kid who didn’t have the resources to find a celebrity in the city when the paparazzi had been trying to do that for years. That did little to calm her. The paps weren’t bloodthirsty ex-soldiers.

There was also some part of Faye’s mind that thought she should report this to Marina, but she knew there was nothing she could really do about an empty threat. What was she going to do, send Margin to her room?

_She’s just an angry kid. There’s no reason to be afraid of her._

She was an angry kid who had almost killed Faye before, though. That was a pretty good reason to be afraid of her.

It was a long time before Faye calmed down enough to even check her phone. There was nothing, no new messages, no ‘hey this is an angry octoling and I’ve captured your friend’. With shaking hands, Faye sent a generic-as-possible-as-to-not-worry-her message to Marie asking if she was okay. Marie was smart, and also a secret agent. She knew that if a suspicious octoling started following her around that there would be something up and get somewhere safe. Or at least, that’s what Faye told herself to ease the panic.

Waiting for a response made her feel like she was being torn apart from the inside, and considering Marie was probably at work she was unlikely to get one for a while. Faye finally dragged herself back up with energy she didn’t feel like she had and a pounding headache, going to check out the status of what she had in terms of food. There really wasn’t much. One slice of bread, some fruit. Maybe enough for a few days before she would inevitably starve. That wasn’t a lot of time to work out what she could even do.

Everything was a mess. Everything was _awful_ , and Faye began to hope that starving was a faster process than she thought.

A quick check of the bathroom showed food wasn’t the only thing she was going to run out of soon, but… at least pads were less of a necessity for survival than food. It was still a not very nice thought to have to make do without them, though. That was one thing she _did_ have to buy herself back when Eight lived here, because as she’d learned, octolings lacking reproductive organs meant they didn’t have periods. Eight had been very alarmed the first time they’d seen blood on Faye’s clothes, and explaining that she wasn’t dying to them had been a rather awkward conversation.

Her phone made a noise, crying out with a message, and Faye _wished_ it could have the same uplifting effect on her as it used to, but instead she just felt numb to everything. She collapsed back on her bed with phone in hand to read it; it was Marie confirming she was okay, asking the same of Faye, and all Faye could do was respond with a simple ‘yeah’.

Marie had offered her help if she needed it in the past, but Faye really didn’t want to ask her for food. She didn’t want to beg her rich friend for money just because she had none. And yet… for some reason, asking for sanitary towels didn’t feel quite so desperate, possibly because she wouldn’t die without them, even if they were still very much necessary.

[16:48] hey uh. I don’t suppose I could borrow some pads

[16:48] well. not borrow

[16:48] would be kinda gross if I gave them back

[16:48] you know what I mean

[16:49] I can get you some if you need them

[16:49] bad cramps huh?

[16:49] nnno I just uh

[16:49] can’t afford them rn

[16:49] don’t worry abt it if it’s a hassle

[16:49] no no dw!!

[16:49] are you sure you’re okay tho?

[16:49] do you have enough food

[16:49] for a few days yeah

[16:49] what about after that

[16:50] I don’t know. A surprise, I guess

[16:50] Faye

[16:50] if you need to borrow money you can

[16:50] I don’t need your money

[16:50] that’s why I said borrow I thought that might help

[16:50] how am I supposed to pay you back tho I don’t have a job

[16:50] uh. An interest-free loan,

[16:50] like that one guy from animal crossing

[16:50] at least let me get you some food or Something

[16:50] I know you don’t want me to but I want to help you

[16:51] ill be fine really

[16:51] ill work something out

[16:51] is there nobody else you can stay with? Like family or anything

[16:51] no

[16:51] its complicated

[16:51] ah,, sorry

[16:51] ok. new idea

[16:51] have you ever been fishing before

[16:51] fishing???

[16:51] uhh it’s been. At least ten years

[16:52] I have the day off tomorrow we could go

[16:52] there’s a fishing lake gramps used to take me and callie to when we first moved to Inkopolis

[16:52] it’s like an hour or so on the train but it’s super quiet there

[16:52] you can keep anything we catch

[16:53] I can’t even afford bread how am I supposed to pay for a train ticket

[16:52] it’s my idea therefore I’m legally obliged to pay for the travel :]

[16:53] Marie

[16:53] just let me do this one thing for you ok??

[16:53] come on… it’ll be nice and quiet and you can catch your own food

[16:53] we can make a day of it maybe

[16:53] I can meet you at like. 9am tomorrow or something

[16:53] the captain’s old fishing gear is still in the cabin right?

[16:53] ok fine since you Insist

[16:53] and yeah it is

[16:53] good!!! my persistence pays off

[16:53] I mean if you really don’t want to go or aren’t up to travel we don’t have to

[16:53] also how desperately do you need pads do you need them like Now or is tomorrow okay

[16:54] nah tomorrow’s fine

[16:54] and thank you

[16:54] for caring so much

[16:54] it means a lot to me even if I just sound like an ass

[16:55] noo you’re fine

[16:55] you’re going through some stuff

[16:55] like I said I’m here for you if you need anything

[16:55] see u tomorrow at 9

[16:55] that’s so early for you don’t you usually wake up at like midday

[16:56] shh. ur worth getting up early for

[16:56] aww im flattered

[16:56] 9am. Ily

[16:56] <3

[16:57] assuming that was @ me and not at the concept of 9am

[16:57] then I really would be worried for you

Despite all the dread and stress and threats of the day… Faye still found herself managing a small smile. A single fishing trip wasn’t a long-term solution to her problem by any means, especially when it required a train ticket and those tended to be pricey when you were actually the one paying, but it felt like the weight on her shoulders had been lifted, just a little. Marie often seemed to have that effect on her.

Gosh, Faye loved her so much.

Maybe things could be okay, or at the very least not so bad. Tomorrow could get her a few more days of not starving to work out what she was going to do next. It would also stop her worrying about anything Margin could do to her friend if she got to spend the whole day with Marie – and spending the day with her was something she was already looking forward to.

She could breathe a little easier, for the moment. At the very least, she was allowed that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of those chapters I've been waiting til I could post for a while.. I can assure you the next one is Even More of that hehe (it's totally not a date)


	24. Hook, Line and Sinker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warnings: mentions of past abusive parents, drug/alcohol misuse, severe injury and suicide threats. also fish being murdered because that's how fishing for food works I guess

Faye was dragged out of slumber by her phone struggling to keep up a constant alarm, chiming its far-too-cheery tune for a few seconds and cutting out the next. She groaned, feebly reaching out to find where the thing even was. Why in the name of all that was holy had she set an _alarm_? For _half eight in the morning_?

 _Oh._ It hit her, suddenly, and then she was definitely awake – or at least, more willing to drag herself out of bed. She was meeting Marie today. That was definitely a good enough reason to get up at such an early hour.

Faye decided to subject herself to the cold water of the shower, which _definitely_ helped wake her up, and changed into the cleanest clothes she had currently. All the while, her brain was still running wild with trying to think of a solution to her current predicament, made even worse because of the realisation that she couldn’t use the laundrette either and would have to wash her clothes by hand going forth, and that still required detergent if she wanted her clothes to be _actually_ clean – ugh, this was all a mess. Perhaps she could pester Sheldon to let her borrow a weapon until she could pay him back for it, but the thought of having to go and beg anyone for help, especially the nerdy crab man, put a bad taste in her mouth.

She could worry about this later. This was supposed to be a nice day, where she got to spend time with her friend who she maybe sort of had a crush on, and at the very least she would get food from it. The reassurance made it easier to fight off the nausea she felt trying to eat one of the few remaining apples for breakfast.

Apparently Faye’s prediction for how long it would take her to get ready was spot-on, because she had just tossed out the core when she heard the familiar sound of the grate rattling outside. She wondered if she should have tried to unearth all the fishing gear before Marie got here, but now was a good a time as any to start, and she took to the corner to try and work out how much of the pile here was actually needed, pushing her agent gear aside for now. A knock resounded from the door. “You can come in, it doesn’t lock,” Faye called when it didn’t open.

“I was being _polite_ ,” Marie huffed good-humouredly, struggling a little with the rusty door before she managed to get it open.

“I didn’t think to try and pack the stuff up before you got here, sorry.” Faye pulled the cooler bag out from a pile of odds and ends she couldn’t decipher because they were _old_ _people_ things, and stood up with the intention to greet Marie.

Instead, her voice completely left her again, but this time it was for a very different reason.

Marie looked different than usual, banking on her change of attire to disguise her so she didn’t have to wear the facemask all day, with her hair tied in a simple ponytail under a grey skipper cap. Her sleeves were rolled up to her elbows, and her pale blue plaid button-up was tucked into dark high-waist trousers, with a navy cardigan tied around her midsection because there was still a late March chill in the air.

She was so _beautiful_ , and Faye really wished her brain would stop being utterly fried by it.

“I just brought you pads, nothing else, don’t worry,” Marie stated, having misread Faye’s accidental staring at her for the plastic bag in her hands. “… Well, and an extra bottle of water. There’s ice for the cooler in here too, I put it in this one so it’d stop freezing my back.” She shook the one in her hands a little, heading over to place it on the table so she could take the pack of ice out, and Faye noticed the navy knapsack on her shoulders; it was covered in patches of various bands she couldn’t recognise from their logos alone.

“Thanks,” Faye managed to say finally, dragging her voice from whatever lesbian pit in her brain it had fallen into. “You… look nice.”

Marie glanced over at her with a look of surprise, like she was trying to work out if that was a compliment or sarcasm. _Come on, Faye, she hasn’t even be here 5 minutes and you’re already messing things up?_ “Thank you,” she said with a slightly bashful smile, which was unexpected, because wasn’t she used to people complimenting her? Marie was a famous idol. “How are you feeling today?”

“Reasonable,” she answered honestly. She didn’t have a headache, _yet_ , and hopefully travelling wouldn’t set one off. Her biggest problem right at this very moment was trying to fight off the desire to kiss one of her best friends.

 _You’re not special. Half the city thinks she’s one of the most gorgeous people to ever exist. Just be glad she’s such a sweet friend to you._ Faye did feel a little underdressed now, though, in her plain hoodie and jeans. She picked up her boater from the table where she’d left it.

“That’s good,” Marie nodded, preoccupied as she took over Faye’s task of locating all the fishing gear, since she – hopefully – actually knew what she was looking for. “It’s been a few years, but… Gramps used to take us up to the lake for fishing once a month or so. Callie always hated it, though.” She let out a laugh. “Too much sitting around, and she’s allergic to seafood. She _insists_ that she’s not, but you’d think she’d realise I know what an allergic reaction looks like.” Marie pulled another bag from the pile, brushing some dust off before opening it to check what was inside. “Okay, good, everything’s still here. We’ll take mine and Callie’s old fishing rods since they’re the telescopic ones.”

“Telescopic…?”

Marie picked up the green-tinted one and waved it in the air to show her; it was one that collapsed to save space. “They’re not as good, but I’ve seen Gramps struggle enough times carrying a full one on the train, and we’re not going to hook anything heavy in a lake.” She stood up, slinging the strap of the weighty-looking bag onto her shoulder. “I have some bait in my bag, so if you’re ready we can grab the ice and go.”

“Sure.” Faye took the bag of ice out, placing it in the cooler as it was for now so she wouldn’t have to have the stinging chill on her hands.

They headed out for the station, and Faye realised when Marie reformed above the grate near the plaza that her ink was a sunny orange colour today instead of her natural green, another way to avoid being recognised in the city – but as it was still nine in the morning, there weren’t many inklings around to see them. It wasn’t a long walk, with the metro across the plaza being their first destination, and Faye waited quietly on one of the platform benches as Marie went to purchase tickets for the full journey.

“How much was it?” she asked when Marie returned, sitting next to her with a rustle of bags and handing her one of the slips of paper. Faye had to think for a moment about where the safest place to put this was, eventually settling for one of the side pockets on her jeans.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to ask that about a gift?” Marie said with a smirk, her ears twitching a little in her obvious attempt to thwart any possible need Faye might feel to pay her back.

Faye gave her a pouty look. “… Fine. I will forgive you only because you are wearing fish earrings, and they’re cute. You’re a nerd.”

Marie giggled at that, the sound echoing in Faye’s memory for a few seconds after in the quiet station.

The metro was frequent throughout the city, and while the station did get a little more crowded the closer the next train became, there was still enough space in the carriages that they managed to find seats a short distance away from everyone else. Faye hadn’t been on the metro in a long time, and it was louder than she would’ve liked – and difficult to hear which station Marie was saying they needed to switch at. After the second time of asking her to repeat, Faye just nodded blindly and figured that as long as Marie knew where they needed to alight from the train, it would be okay.

Their change was at one of the major stations of Inkopolis, where the place was swarming and shops lined the walls with overpriced food and tourist souvenirs. It was fifteen minutes until their next train, so they found a quiet corner to sit in, with an unfortunate lack of benches since most of them were taken, but at least it looked like the floor was cleaned regularly.

“The actual station is in the nearby town,” Marie explained as she told Faye where they were next headed, this time without the thundering metro to drown her out. “Then it’s… maybe a fifteen minute walk? Maybe longer, depends how easily I can remember the way. The place is open for the public, but nobody really goes there anymore. Fishing isn’t most people’s choice of sport these days, and it’s much easier to just go to the supermarket if they want the food.”

“Except when you’re completely broke,” Faye said with a nod and a smile to show she wasn’t upset about it.

“Yeah. Sorry.” Marie gave a nervous laugh. “… Do you have a plan, by the way? For what you’re going to do about money?”

“Eh… not really.” Faye’s smile faded as she was dragged back into reality, the reality that wasn’t just going on a day out with Marie, and she fiddled with the strap of the cooler bag, still slung over her shoulder. “I tried going to Grizzco, but the stupid bear wouldn’t let me in because I tripped the health alarm in that one private battle.” She huffed. “Is it even legal for him to have access to our records?”

“Honestly, I don’t know if anything that happens with that company is legal,” Marie said with a wry smile. “That sucks, though, I’m sorry.” She looked away for a long moment, squinting to see the departure boards in the distance and check if their train was on time. “If… if things do get really bad, though, like—like ‘you have absolutely nothing to eat’ bad… promise me you’ll accept some help? Even if it’s not me.” There was worry in her eyes when she turned her gaze back to Faye, and the targeted squid had to admit that was completely understandable, given her track record of trying to push her away any time she offered anything.

She had to not do that. If she wanted things to ever be okay again, she had to stop building all these walls around her. The options would literally be accept Marie’s help or starve, in this case, so why was a fear of possible guilt overpowering her survival instinct? “… Sure. Promise. I, uh… probably would have to go to you, though, Eight isn’t exactly minted, and th— she doesn’t know about this, either.” The pronoun tripped her up for a moment, because this was the first time she’d spoken about Eight to someone else since that conversation, and she didn’t know if they were even out to anyone but her yet. They used both. It was fine.

“Thank you.” Marie gave a small smile at her response, and Faye was surprised to feel reassured by that, the simple acknowledgement that she was trying, rather than guilty over the fact this had concerned her.

Perhaps spending a day with Marie was doing her more good than she expected.

* * *

Today was the day – or at least, one of the few days she would need. Margin had her route planned out, partially memorised and partially based on a map she’d drawn in her notebook and then torn out so she could stuff the handful of pages into her pocket instead of having to put her books into her bag along with a crate of rotten eggs. She was already not looking forward to how bad her bag would smell afterwards, and she’d probably have to drench it with freshener to get rid of the rancid stench, but everything would be worth it in the end.

There was one more thing she needed first, though, and that was Miles’ help. He didn’t look too happy about being dragged outside so early in the day, but this was _important_ , and she hurried out here as soon as she was ready to go.

“ **I need to know if you can do something** ,” she told him as she guided him down through the mountain paths. “ **And if you can, I need you to be around to do it later. It’s _really_ important.**”

The short journey led them to an empty-looking part of Mount Nantai’s base, on the opposite side from the city, where a large electric transformer sat fenced off from the nearby area. It was a mess of wires and poles sticking out from a giant weather-beaten box, and a quiet hum emanated from it, just audible from where they stood outside the grates.

“ **This is where the wires from the barrier lead to** ,” she explained, as Miles looked on with an expression mixed between awe and fear. “ **I need you to find some way to shut it down.** ”

“ **What!?** ” Miles’ gaze immediately snapped to her, his eye wide with shock. “ **Why!? Won’t that affect the hotel too? This is where the nearby pylons go to.** ”

“ **It doesn’t have to be for _long_. Just temporary. Five minutes. Not right now; when I ask you to. I’ll have to call you or something**,” she shrugged. “ **You can do that, right?** ”

“ **But why would you want to** —”

“ ** _Can_ you _do_ that**?” Margin repeated with emphasis.

“ **I** …” Miles opened his mouth to say something else, promptly closed it, and looked at the machine in front of them for a few moments. “… **I want to know why you need me to do this**.”

“ **Ugh, _fine_. It’s just for an experiment. I can explain more later, I have stuff to do first.**” Margin huffed, crossing her arms. “ **Can I trust you, Miles?** ”

“ **Of course! Of course you can** ,” he nodded hurriedly. “ **I-I think I know how**. **To do it, that is.** ”

“ **So you’ll do it? You’re sure? I can count on you for that?** ”

“ **Y-yeah. I’m—I’m sure. You just… need me to be around to do that? When?** ”

“ **In a few hours, maybe, I don’t know. It might be later**.”

“ **Can I… at least go back to the hotel in the meantime?** ” He gave her a nervous look, like he expected her to make him wait out here by this fence all day.

“ **Sure**.” Margin gave yet another visual check of the area; no security cameras, he wouldn’t be caught doing this. “ **But be ready to do this. I’ll try and give you some warning, a call or something, so I don’t have to wait for you to get all the way down here.** ” With that sorted, she headed off in the direction of the junkyard, ready to get on with her plan.

“ **Okay. Thank you…** ” Miles’ voice was quiet, both in general and from the growing distance between them.

Margin had a spring in her step as she made the short walk, and even the awful smell of the rotten eggs couldn’t sour her mood today because this was _it_ , this was her plan going into motion at last. She pulled out the disposable gloves she’d brought with her, because no matter how determined she felt she was still _not_ touching these things with her bare hands, and managed to fit the large carton of eggs neatly into her bag. It probably wouldn’t have fit in here so well if she had brought her books with her, so leaving them behind had been a good idea for more than just saving them from the stink.

Then she was off, speed-walking rather than running to avoid breaking the eggs, back up to where she’d left her bike. She still had most of her tank left, enough to make this journey twice for when she set the final stage in motion and transported the stereo too. A deep breath, and she was off on her mission.

It felt surreal, following the same path as she’d used to do months ago, even if she was stopping every few minutes to find somewhere out of sight to hide one of the eggs – they were awful smelling, but _strong_ , and she buried the first one just a short way out from the barrier, less than a kilometre away, within a crack in the dry earth caused by the roots of a plant. As she travelled, she placed each one somewhere as out of sight as she could manage, but where the smell wouldn’t get camouflaged by anything else nearby. She purposely took a slight detour away from the forest where Squidgy currently resided, because it would be too much of a distraction for anything following this path, and she didn’t want him following it just yet; she wanted to guide him to the city herself on her way back today.

After a long journey made longer than usual, she caught sight of the mutated forest in the distance. It loomed, ominously, waiting for her and the atrocities it could cause, but she wasn’t going near it today. She dropped the final egg directly on the ground at the end of the bridge, watching it crack and splatter on the ground in its awful revolting colours, a promise of the destruction this simple trail of eggs would cause, once she had the final piece in place.

Margin mounted her bike, taking a long look over her shoulder at the trees in the distance before she kicked the engine into life and sped away.

“Inkopolis,” she muttered under her breath, her voice barely heard over the growl of the motorbike. “I hope you’re not ready.”

* * *

It was a long time since Faye had been on any train, let alone one that travelled outside the city. She’d seen the spires of the beast guard surrounding the Inkopolis area from a distance but never passed through them before, and watched them flash past as the train sped along the tracks and out into the countryside. Marie did not seem nearly as interested in the surroundings, having travelled out here multiple times in the past and likely for performance trips as well, but she did glance up from her phone and offer a small smile when she saw Faye looking at her.

Apparently the ‘hour by train’ only counted for this section of the journey, not the thirty minutes between reaching the first metro station and getting on this train, but it went by at a reasonable speed. Faye spent a lot of the time watching the world go by, and either because of the early start or the gentle rocking of the carriage, felt her eyelids starting to droop. Every time she was about to fall asleep, something would snap her back into consciousness, either a sudden movement or her own realisation that she was falling asleep. Hopefully walking again would wake her up more when they arrived.

“Here’s our station,” Marie said eventually, giving Faye’s arm a gentle shake, as if she expected her to have fallen asleep after all. “Time to go.”

Breamway was an old-timey-looking single-platform station in a quaint little town, a far sight different from Inkopolis with all its rusted colours and corner stores. It only seemed to be comprised of two main streets before the paved roads gave way to paths into the residential area, and the pavements were lined with thin trees growing their leaves back after winter.

“D’you want to grab some lunch before we head up to the lake?” Marie asked as they walked along. “We’ll be there for a while, and there’s a good pastry shop around here somewhere, if it hasn’t closed down.”

Faye tried to fight off the unsettled feeling she always got knowing that she was going to need Marie to pay for her, finding it a little easier than before, but not possible _entirely_.

Her internal distress must have shown somehow, because Marie gave a sympathetic smile. “They used to have offers on; that’s why Gramps took us there. He had… one super hungry teenager and one sort-of-average teenager to feed after a day of fishing. I’m pretty sure the food was the only reason Callie agreed to go.”

Despite herself, Faye couldn’t help the small laugh she felt bubbling inside her. Marie was really good at settling her worries. “Sure.”

The pastry shop was a little one with just two tables in it and run by a sweet old inkling lady, who complimented Marie on how pretty her hair was, saying good-naturedly that she wished her own could be such a nice silvery-white colour instead of age-faded grey (which Marie politely responded to by saying hers _also_ looked very lovely), and plated their orders with practiced swiftness.

“My, you’ve been in the wars, haven’t you?” she said softly when she caught sight of Faye’s face. “Enjoy your food, ladies!”

“Thank you,” Marie said with a forced smile, responding for both of them as Faye wordlessly slunk away to a table with her plate.

They ate in silence for a while, and Faye had to admit the pasty she’d picked out at random _was_ pretty good, although she didn’t know if that was because it truly was or just because she’d barely eaten in the past two days. Marie had something that Faye hadn’t quiet caught the name of, but she’d known what she was getting as soon as she entered the store; an old favourite, maybe, or just the only thing she knew for sure didn’t contain anything she was allergic to.

“Sorry about that.” Marie looked over at the counter, now empty as the lady running the place was sorting out something in a back room; this place was far from crowded. “I didn’t realised she’d be so, uh… talkative.”

“It’s fine.” Faye waved it off with one hand, hoping she didn’t seem too uncultured as she scooped up the final piece of her food with her fork probably held incorrectly; it had been a long while since she’d used cutlery for anything other than spreading butter on her toast. Once she was done, she pushed her plate aside and folded her arms on the table, looking around at the cute little store. “… She was right, though,” she added, hoping her comment seemed casual enough. “Your hair _does_ look nice. I’ve never seen you wear it in a ponytail before.”

“O-oh—really?” With it brought to her attention, Marie reached back to touch it, as if she needed to make sure it was still in place. “I guess I just… don’t wear it that way often. I _might_ have overslept my alarm this morning and just done the bare minimum.” She gave a sheepish grin.

“Oh, _shush_ , it looks good! I think it suits you.”

“Well— thank you,” Marie gave a small laugh, covering the lower half of her face with her hand for one moment as if she was embarrassed by her own smile (which she shouldn’t be, because that was beautiful, too), and quickly distracted herself by neatening their empty plates. “Are you, uh… are you ready to go?”

“Huh? Oh,” Faye had briefly forgotten they were actually on their way somewhere. “Yeah. Sure.”

They placed their plates on the clean-up tray, and the elderly inkling waved and wished them a good day again as they left the store. Marie seemed fairly certain of the way they needed to go, for now at least, and led them at a comfortable pace through the country lanes. It wasn’t long before the houses stopped, giving way to a woodland trail that sloped gently upwards, and a sign pointed that way as being the direction of the lake, so they were clearly on the right path. The ground was a little more uneven here, with too little space between the trees for cars and the route soon changing to a natural path formed only by a history of folks walking it. It didn’t take long for Marie to almost trip on a protruding root, but she caught herself quickly.

“You alright?” Faye checked. She’d been a little too far away to catch her if she _did_ fall, but hadn’t retracted the arm she’d reached out automatically.

“Yeah,” Marie gave a small laugh to hide her embarrassment. Her gaze fell briefly on Faye’s arm, then quickly dropped to the floor, a hint of colour flushing her cheeks. “You know… we’re… we’re not in the middle of the city now.”

“We sure aren’t.” This was a more difficult surface to walk on that a pavement— _wait_. That wasn’t what she meant. She was talking about the last time they’d actually been able to meet up. “ _Oh_! Wait, sorry, I getcha.” Faye shook her head quickly, taking the extra step she needed to be closer to her and offered a hand. “ _Milady_.”

Marie burst out laughing at her silly joke, shaking her head a little, but still happily took Faye’s hand in hers, her touch warm and gentle. “You are so much, sometimes,” she said with a bright smile, one that showed her teeth and wrinkled the corners of her eyes.

Faye could only grin in response, elated that she’d managed to make her laugh, see that smile, feel her hand in hers again. She didn’t want to do _anything_ that could ruin this moment.

They walked together in comfortable silence for a while, up the forest path, until finally the woods started to thin out and a glint of patchy sunlight reflected up ahead. The lake stretched out for a long way in front of them, the banks switching between grassy slope and cliff at various points, and trees lining the horizon on all sides. A weathered sign stated that fishing was allowed here as long as visitors brought the right equipment and didn’t litter or overfish, and on the far side there was a small pier with a few less-than-seaworthy-looking boats docked that probably hadn’t been touched in years.

“Here we are,” Marie said, giving her hand a small squeeze before she let go, much to Faye’s disappointment. “See anywhere you want to set up?”

“I assume ‘by the water’ is the ideal place for fishing?” Faye joked, hoping to draw another laugh out of her, and succeeding.

“If you want to try the grass, by all means, go ahead,” Marie smirked. She looked around for a moment, observing the shoreline. “I think there’s a good flat spot over there. Just don’t go too near the edge.”

It didn’t take long to set up, situating themselves far enough from the water that it was safe but close enough to cast. Faye extended out the pink rod she’d been given, pretending to observe it as she watched Marie to see how on earth she was supposed to connect the rest together. “You know when you look at something, and you can just… _tell_ it belongs to Callie?”

Marie gave a huff of a laugh. “Yeah. That’s the theme in our apartment. The pinker something is, the more likely it’s something of Callie’s.” She tested the lure she’d connected to the line with an experimental tug, holding the whole thing skyward for a moment so it took on the traditional fishing rod look, and then placed it on the grass beside her. “Need a hand?”

As much as Faye wanted to brush away the offer for help, there was always the risk of her making an utter fool of herself if she did. “… Yeah, probably,” she eventually said with a shrug, reluctantly handing the rod over. “The last time I went fishing I was probably, like, seven or something. My dad did all this stuff for me.”

A brief look of surprise flashed across Marie’s face, probably because this was the first time Faye had mentioned any family member before, as she threaded the line through the guides. She didn’t make any comment on it, though. “Let’s see if you still have it in you, huh?”

“The fishing skill of a seven-year-old. I’m not gonna catch anything longer than an inch,” Faye scoffed.

“Hey, as long as it’s edible.” Marie attached the lure and handed the rod back over to Faye.

Adding bait was simple enough that Faye could work out how to do it herself, and soon the two of them were casting into the water. Faye’s went slightly further out, and she glanced over at Marie with a smirk. “I win.”

“Silly.” Marie rolled her eyes, shaking her head. She waited for a moment, watching where her line disappeared into the water, and then propped her rod up against her bag so she wouldn’t have to hold it. “Now we do the fun part of waiting around doing nothing.”

“Oh, I’m an _expert_ at that,” Faye nodded simply. She did the same, using the cooler bag, and took the opportunity to stretch. Her hat nearly fell off in the process, and she had to quickly make a grab for it before it could escape, potentially into the water.

Marie took inspiration from her, linking her fingers together and stretching her arms out in front of her for a moment. “So… I know this is kinda generic conversation of me to ask, but… what did you do before joining the NSS?”

That was a question Faye hadn’t been expecting, and after a few seconds of thought realised she didn’t really know the answer. Her memory felt patchy at best, which might have been due to Tartar, but also… “Nothing interesting, really. Pretty sure I just played turf war like everyone else,” she shrugged, and ran a hand thoughtfully over the brim of her boater; at the very least, she’d gotten more clothes from her match rewards, even if they were starting to get slightly worn by now. “What about you? You must have done matches or something to get so good with a charger.”

“Oh. Well,” Marie said with a wry smile. “I guess I did the odd match in my free time, at first. Like… training, I guess? Then our careers took off, and I didn’t really have the time or energy to do turf anymore.”

“So you just happen to have super dead-eye aim?” Faye raised an eyebrow. “Wow. And I thought natural talent wasn’t supposed to be a thing.”

Marie laughed at that, looking out across the lake. “Cod, I wish. Nah, I, uh… okay, this is going to sound really stupid.”

“Okay, now I _have_ to know where this is going.”

“Oh, shut up,” she waved her off, a smile on her face but not quite able to look Faye in the eye. “There was… this girl I had a crush on in school, when I was like, thirteen, and so I… kind of… joined the archery club because I wanted to impress her…?”

“… You gained the powers of an ultimate sniper just because you wanted to impress a cute girl?” Faye gave her an incredulous look, a grin spreading on her face because this was absolutely _not_ the story she expected to come from that question. “… _Did_ you? Impress her?”

“Hah! No. She was kind of mean to me, looking back. I don’t know what the hell young Marie was thinking. Gramps was so impressed, though, he got Callie to drag me into the Splatoon, so… it’s so-so,” Marie waved a hand in front of her and gave a sarcastic smile. “Next time someone wants to validate me, though, I’d rather skip the underground war part.”

“Damn. I wish being a lesbian gave _me_ incredible skills,” Faye joked. “I just took self-defence classes because I wanted to, but I guess it did scare away some guys, so it was a win-win.” That was… a _slight_ lie, there had been someone else she wanted to be able to fight off if necessary – and it sometimes was – but that was not a topic she wanted to bring into this light-hearted conversation.

“Well—oh. Fish.” Marie cut off her own thought, and Faye looked over and noticed the ripples and shimmering in the water around Marie’s line. She slowly reached for the rod, careful not to jostle it too much, and Faye watched in silence until Marie pulled it up suddenly, causing whatever was caught on the hook to splash around violently as it realised it was caught. After a short struggle, it was lifted from the water, and Marie landed it on the shore. “He looks edible. You wanna do the honours, or do I get the dirty work?” She held something out to Faye, and it took her a moment to realise it was a knife.

“… You have to stab the fish?”

“Much quicker way to go than suffocating on air,” Marie shrugged.

“Fair point. Alright, if I’m gonna use this poor lad for food I might as well put him out of his misery faster.”

It was over fast, with Marie telling her where to do it so the fish wouldn’t feel pain, and as soon as that was done, Faye removed the cooler’s ice from the plastic bag it had been in all this time, and held the bag open for Marie to place the fish inside. It wasn’t _huge_ , but it still looked like a decent meal, for Faye’s standards.

“Marie Cuttlefish, master angler,” Faye teased as she placed the cooler aside for now, zipping it back up to stop the coldness from escaping.

Marie grinned. “Nice try, but Cuttlefish is Callie’s last name, not mine.”

“… It’s not?” Faye gave her a look of confusion. “But… the Captain?”

“Is my grandfather,” Marie finished for her. “Extra generation in there. Aunt Okono didn’t change her last name when she got married but my mother did. There’s… a _lot_ of conspiracy theories online saying me and Callie aren’t actually related because of our last names. It’s a wild read.”

“Huh.” Faye hadn’t exactly looked up much about the Squid Sisters in recent times. There was something that would feel weird and invasive about that when she knew them personally, but that was also why this was completely new information to her. “So… what _is_ your last name?”

“Hotaru. It’s, uh… my step-dad’s last name, really.” Marie’s friendly smile seemed a lot more forced suddenly. “What’s yours? I… don’t think I’ve ever actually asked.”

“Oh. Durrin.” It left a bad taste in her mouth too. “I… don’t usually use it unless I have to.”

Time passed, and fish were about as un-abundant as Faye expected them to be. A few times they moved their little fishing base around, finding different parts of the water to cast into so that the struggles of previous catches wouldn’t have scared the nearby fish away, but it was about the same wherever they went, so they eventually gave up and just relied on the saying about fish having terrible memories to be true. Faye’s first catching attempt did not work out, and she ended up reeling in an empty hook as the fish escaped with her bait, but on her second try she actually managed to land one, some green-tinted creature she had no idea of the species of which was about the size of her hand.

This place was… _serene_ , Faye supposed was the right word, and even when they were sat there in silence it wasn’t awkward in the slightest, the quiet filled by the rustling of leaves of the call of a bird somewhere in the distance. The air was so much clearer out here than in the city, or the residual octarian ink smell of Octo Valley, and despite all the things hanging over her right now Faye felt calm, peaceful, like everything she would have to deal with was a world away.

“So, one thing I’ve always wondered about,” Faye said, keeping her voice relatively quiet as to not scare the fish away, as she abandoned her rod again five minutes after casting since nothing had been attracted by the initial splash. “The Captain was around for the Great Turf War, right? Which would make him… what, over a hundred?”

“He’s… 130 this year? I think? Maybe 131.” Marie nodded slowly.

That was a higher number than Faye had expected, but she figured it would probably be a little insensitive to point out how elderly he was to his granddaughter. “Still going strong. But like… you and Callie are, what, 20?”

“Soon, yeah. Do I want to ask where this is heading?”

“… You know it does sound like a kinda weird question now I’m actually, like, trying to phrase it in my head.”

Marie looked at her for a long moment, one eyebrow raised, and Faye was worried for a moment that she might have offended her – until she laughed. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to. Gramps adopted my mother and aunt when he was like… seventy? Ish? They’re not his biological kids. I don’t even have a grandmother on his side.” She fiddled with the reel for a moment before propping her rod against the bag again too. “Mum hasn’t spoken to him in years, though. Refuses to, even. She’s convinced he’s lost his mind with all the octarian stuff.”

“You can’t tell her he’s not?”

“Ah, yes, let me tell my mother I’ve been involved in an underground war as a secret agent for the past three years,” Marie said with a dry laugh, leaning her elbow against her knee so she could rest her chin on one hand. “… Nah, I… don’t really speak to her in the first place. I stopped calling a while after me and Cal moved to Inkopolis. I visited home for a few days last year and nothing had really changed – asking me what Callie was up to these days and trying to convince me I didn’t need her anymore.” She ran her free hand over the grass, pulling out a few strands. “Same old family drama.”

Faye listened quietly, feeling like some new door into foreign lands had been opened. She didn’t know what she’d expected of Marie’s family, but it certainly wasn’t one in pieces, especially knowing how close she was to her cousin. “I’m sorry,” she said eventually, because some of it sounded all too familiar. “I can understand why you moved here.”

“Yeah, well,” Marie forced a smile. “That was Callie’s idea, really. She wanted us to try and get signed on somewhere, and Inkopolis was the place to do that. I just jumped at the chance to leave and didn’t tell my parents until the day before we did. Oh, boy, that was a scene. Callie made fun of me for crying so much on the train because she thought I was just upset about moving out.” She stared at the water for a long moment and took in a long breath. “… Sorry. I’m just—I’m rambling a lot, and it’s probably kind of depressing.”

“Hey. It’s fine.” Faye leaned over a little, reaching to place a comforting hand on hers, both as reassurance and to save the poor grass. “If you wanna talk about it, you can. If you wanna change the subject, you can do that too.”

Marie looked down at her hand for a moment, then back up at her, a soft smile finding its way back onto her face. “Thanks… I guess it’s just—it’s stupid. Not how I feel about it, just, _really_. Mom hates her sister and niece just because Dad kind of… talked her into it? I don’t know. One day he started getting mad that my aunt and uncle had so much input on my life and she just went with it, I guess.” She looked away at the grass again, letting her fingers intertwine with Faye’s, and Faye gave her hand a supportive squeeze. “The guy who was _supposed_ to be my dad walked out, like, a month before I was born, so they were sort of like parents to me too until—well, I’m pretty sure Mom just married the first guy who showed interest in her. Her taste is abysmal otherwise, we’ll leave it at that.” Marie bit the inside of her cheek for a moment. “… I guess I technically was a Cuttlefish until I was, like, four. When Mom married _him_ she got my last name changed, too, and I’m ninety percent sure it was just out of spite.”

“What a wonderful mother she sounds like,” Faye huffed, wondering now if the words ‘mother’ and ‘spite’ just happened to fit together perfectly. “I’m glad you don’t have to deal with her now. Or your dad. He sounds like a prick.”

“Yeah, he is.” Marie’s thumb brushed lightly over the side of Faye’s hand for a moment. “Don’t… please don’t mention any of this to Callie. As far as she knows, her aunt and uncle are just kind of grouchy, not… controlling and spiteful. I’ve pretended to call home every holiday for years.” She let out a single laugh – or at least, Faye thought it was a laugh, it was hard to tell. “I know it’s silly, it’s just… Callie _dreams_. I don’t want to crush this idea she has of her happy family.”

Faye didn’t think that was worth it, not really – but if this was the way Marie wanted to deal with it, if it wasn’t hurting her too badly to keep the truth from her cousin like this, Faye wasn’t about to betray her trust. “Yeah. I won’t say anything.”

“Thank you.” Marie let out a small sigh of relief, either at hearing her say that or perhaps just for being able to talk about this with someone, out in the middle of nowhere with nothing but the fish and birds to overhear. She let go of Faye’s hand. “… I think there’s a fish going for your line, by the way.”

She was correct, and Faye was just about in time to manage to catch it – but this one was quite small, a young-looking one of the same species as a few of the others they’d caught, so they released it back into the water.

“Hopefully he won’t warn his friends,” Faye joked as she attached more bait to her hook. She was beginning to get the hang of this now.

It wasn’t long before she settled again, this time flopping down onto her back and folding her arms behind her to rest her head on as she stared up at the slightly-overcast sky, which was the only part of the scenery she hadn’t spent her time looking at so far. Occasionally birds flitted to and from the trees on either side of the lake, some of them swooping down to the water to catch bugs that hovered around the surface.

There was some kind of feeling she couldn’t quite place, knowing that Marie trusted her enough to share something so personal with her. Maybe it was warmth because of that closeness, maybe fear that she now held something so important in her mind, maybe guilt because she herself had refused to reveal anything of her own all this time. Marie had helped her anyway, continued to support her despite all the times Faye had tried to push her away with absolutely no explanation as to why.

It felt like she owed her, and Faye didn’t _like_ that, because she knew there was a chance Marie could agree with everything, that she could hate her if she knew, that she could decide Faye was an awful person who got far more than the nothing she deserved just for being born.

Or she could be the first person who decided not to. Marie had already been a first for so many other things recently, and that was enough to give Faye the courage she needed.

“I moved to Inkopolis when I was 8,” she decided on, not really knowing where she could manage to take this conversation. “Not because of any, like, cool opportunity or anything, just… my mother dragging me back to her home country. Since you asked. Earlier. What I did before the Splatoon.”

There was a silence, painfully long, and Faye couldn’t bear to look at Marie to see what the cause for that might be – though in reality, she was just waiting to hear if Faye had more to add to that sentence. “Was it… a divorce, or something?”

“No—well… I don’t… _know_ if she ever officially divorced him.” She’d never asked. It wasn’t a topic that was brought up without repercussion, without being reminded what she’d done, how it was _her_ _fault_ everything ended up like this, how she’d ruined the lives of everyone involved – including her own.

“Is he…?”

“Alive. He’s… alive.” Her mother sure acted like he wasn’t. “He’s just…” The best way for her to explain would be to tell the whole story, really, and push any emotion she felt about it as far down and out of reach as she could. “I was, like, 8 or something, probably.” She knew exactly how old she’d been, exactly when it happened. “And we were just… out in the local park area, I had a kite or something. It got lodged in a tree, he climbed up to get it, he… fell. Bad. The cartilage in his head caved in. And… I… didn’t think to go for help or anything, so I just… sat there. And cried. Like a stupid useless kid.” Words said to her many times. “By the time someone found us and called an ambulance the internal bleeding had given him severe brain damage.”

Another painfully long silence as her words sunk in. “That’s _awful_.” Marie’s words were soft, and caused Faye to mentally curl in on herself, because that was _exactly_ the reaction she was _supposed_ _to_ _have_ , it was so _awful_ and she’d done _nothing_ and maybe the risk of sharing wasn’t worth it after all, but she couldn’t stop now.

“Ma blamed me for the whole thing, of course. Decided I deserved hell for it, and maybe I did.” A single dry laugh escaped her. That sure was what she was getting. “She didn’t want to look after him after that, so she just… moved back here, took me with her, left Dad in the care of his parents. Whenever I made friends she’d just… _find_ them, tell them about how awful I was, made sure their parents kept them away from me because she just… wanted everyone to know how her own daughter had ruined her life, I guess.” She could still remember the first time she’d overheard one of these conversations and realised why so many people suddenly stopped wanting to associate with her. “After a while she started overusing drugs and alcohol because she was too stressed out, not that it really seemed to make her any better. She’d… threaten to overdose and kill herself in front of me, or threaten to use them to kill _me_ instead – life was fun.”

“Dear _cod_ , that’s just—oh, goodness.” Marie brought her hands to her face – and removed them a second later with a slight grimace at the fishy smell, wiping them on her jeans instead. “Faye, I’m so sorry, I had no idea, I— gosh, that— well, that… explains a lot of things actually, but— there is no way you deserved _any_ of that. Your mother sounds like the most despicable person on the planet.”

That… was _not_ how she was supposed to react.

Perhaps there really was a first time for everything.

Perhaps this was just because she was hearing it from Faye, and not her mother. Marie had never met the woman. Maybe she would change her mind if she did.

Faye hoped that would never happen.

“Maybe. I don’t know. It’s whatever.” It was a strange experience, seeing Marie more emotional about this than she was, and maybe Faye _should_ have been upset, but for right now she felt numb to it. It would creep up on her and haunt her nightmares and tear her apart when she least expected it, but in this moment… nothing.

“I’m glad you managed to get away from her – shit, I hope she never goes anywhere near you _again_. I’m sorry you had to put up with that for so long.” Faye couldn’t even name the expression on Marie’s face now – pity? Distress? Anger? It was something, and whatever it was, it was strong. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Faye said with about as much meaning behind it as usual. She pushed herself back up into sitting at last, collecting her hat from the grass behind her and putting it back on her head. That made things feel more normal, somehow. “It’s all in the past anyway, it doesn’t matter.” How badly she wished that were true.

“It’s _not_ , and it _does_. You know it still affects you, Faye, I’ve been seeing it happen for months.” Marie waited, and when Faye didn’t respond with anything other than a sigh as she stared at the grass, she continued. “I don’t know if you’re the kind of person for this, and we’re kinda covered in fish slime, but… would you like a hug? If that would make you feel any better.”

Faye blanked a little at the offer, her brain taking a moment to process. She managed a small nod. “Yeah… sure, I guess.”

They were sat on the grass, so it wasn’t much more than just shuffling over a little so Marie could put an arm around her – but as soon as she did, all the emotions came rushing back to hit her, tightening her throat and causing a fierce stinging in her eyes.

She couldn’t cry. She _couldn’t_. She wouldn’t let herself, especially not in front of Marie. Faye took as deep and silent a breath as she could manage, letting her head fall against her friend’s shoulder for a moment, ignoring as that dislodged her hat again.

Marie was here. She was _still_ _here_ and she _cared_ about her and she didn’t _hate_ her even after she finally told her everything.

“… Sorry for not hugging back,” she finally managed to choke out in a desperate effort to distract herself with humour. “There’s fish blood on my hands.”

Marie laughed, a hint of emotion within it still. “It’s okay.” She held Faye tighter for a moment before releasing her from the embrace, making the cool breeze feel far too cold all of a sudden. “Any better?”

“A little.” Faye managed a half-hearted smile. “Sorry. This was supposed to be a chill fishing trip.”

“No, no, don’t apologise.” Marie shook her head. “I’m glad you told me. It helps me understand better.” She looked out at the water where the lines still stood, and it was impossible to tell from here if anything had eaten the bait while they were distracted by talking. “Do you want to keep fishing? We can head back if you want.”

Faye picked up her discarded rod, lifting the line out of the water; yep, no bait. Hopefully that fish was enjoying it. “Hmm… one more catch, maybe. Not including ones we can’t keep.” She pulled another piece of bait from the bag, waving it in front of Marie. “First one to catch one wins?”

Marie instinctively backed away a little from the worm in her face. “Are you really challenging me to a _fishing_ contest?” She gave an incredulous laugh. “You absolute nerd. You’re on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when you go on a fishing trip (totally not a date) and end up sharing your past traumas
> 
> I considered switching this story to have just one update a week since it is Quite Long and after running a poll on twitter as to whether I should that was Extremely Close decided to keep it at 2 since it'll all be up eventually and people can read at whatever pace they want, tho if you are reading this in the future sometime I would love to hear your reactions/etc on your fav parts :] Also thank you so much to everyone who has left comments so far!!! Especially the few who have been leaving comments each chapter. I love you


	25. Loud Actions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warnings: manipulation/threats. it's Margin you know the drill

The horizon was stained orange by the time Margin returned to Squidgy’s forest. She didn’t even have to go to the usual place to find him, because the musk of rotten egg that now emanated from her bag was enough to lure him from halfway across the woods – which was a _very_ good sign as to whether the trail would work.

“There’s nothing in there,” she huffed, trying to push his snout away from her bag with one hand while guiding her motorbike through the undergrowth, taking its weight against her side. “Come on, buddy, it’s time to move again.”

He followed after her obediently, trotting around and sniffing at the surroundings since her pace was quite slow, but halted once she passed the point where she always ordered him to stop. Margin had to look back, doing a few of the arm motions he understood well and encouraging him onward so he’d keep following.

Once they were free from the trees and shrubs, Margin climbed onto her bike again, glad to not be pushing the thing any further because she was tired after today’s task, but the effort was far from over. Squidgy wasn’t a problem on his own, because he _would_ follow after her, chasing eagerly after the bike as if he was excited for another adventure – but he would become exhausted quickly if she made him sprint the whole journey, and she also needed to detour as much as she could around anywhere that looked inhabited. That was more difficult the closer they got to the city, as more and more houses appeared dotted in the surroundings, but at least with it getting dark it was less likely anyone would see them.

When the barrier loomed in the distance, spires silhouetted against the foggy mountain behind them, Margin parked against a particularly low-grown tree, letting Squidgy collapse next to it to rest and catch his breath. She took her phone from her pocket, hoping the two bars of signal she was getting out here would be enough to make a phone call, because she didn’t know how reliably Miles would respond to a text.

He picked up after a few rings. “ **You want me to go now**?” he asked, immediately, not wasting time with a greeting.

“ **Yeah. I’ll be ready.** ” Margin looked at Squidgy, tired and panting, and hoped he would have enough energy to get up and travel just a little bit further. “ **Once you’ve shut the power off, leave immediately. I don’t know if someone will go out to check.** ”

“ **O-okay. See you.** ”

The call cut out. This was it.

“Here we go, Squidgy.” Margin reached down to pat his neck. “Not far now.”

When she climbed back onto her bike and started the engine, Squidgy pulled himself to his feet, a little reluctantly. His tail and fins were drooping now, but he didn’t have to do much more. Soon they’d be through.

The last short leg of the journey was the most nerve-wracking yet, because everything seemed so _open_ , but the one solace was a short valley that kept them mostly hidden from view of anything else in the surrounding area. Within five minutes, the spires loomed up ahead, and Margin halted as closely as she dared take Squidgy. Fortunately he was too exhausted by the journey to wander off and get zapped.

Then she waited, trying to predict in her head how long it would take Miles to get down to the transformer, and she had no clue how much time it would take to mess with it – or if it would _work_ , because there was still a chance that could be too big of a task even for Miles, as much of a genius as he was.

Then, after what felt like an age, the residual humming of the barrier vanished. The few lights dotted around the side of the mountain disappeared, leaving it a massive dark shape in the distance.

He’d done it.

This was _it_.

“Come on. Come on, Squidgy, _move_!” Margin cheered, starting her engine again in a flash. He’d had some rest during the wait and grumbled excitedly, charging after her as she sped along.

She didn’t dare slow down. She wanted Squidgy through that thing as soon as possible, because she didn’t know how long it would take for the power to come back on, and she didn’t know what would happen to him if the barrier re-activated before he was through it.

Hopefully the barrier only worked _at_ the line of spires. Margin didn’t know if it could target things that were already long past it. She could only hope for that one, because she’d had no way of testing it otherwise.

She held her breath as they passed between the spires, but nothing happened, no giant zap or flash or yelp of pain. They couldn’t stop, not yet, and Margin knew exactly where she could take Squidgy, somewhere he wouldn’t be found.

Camouflaged by darkness, Margin guided him through the trees, having to drive slowly so she didn’t collide with a hard-to-see trunk and wishing the engine of her bike wasn’t so obnoxiously loud. The ground dipped and curved, and soon she was forced to stop as it dropped away quickly in front of them. She dismounted her bike and pushed it along the edge of the rise until she finally reached a familiar-looking rock formation, leaning it against the cool surface, an easy place for her to find it again later. Squidgy was panting once more, looking less enthusiastic as he plodded after her and ready for all the moving around to be over, but he still gave the occasional inquisitive look at their surroundings.

“Almost there now,” Margin promised, patting his shoulder. She was going to have to guide him the rest of the way on foot. “We just have to go down.”

It was halfway between a cliff face and a slope, not a direct drop if she slipped anywhere but would still be a painful fall, so Margin took it slowly, occasionally looking back to see how Squidgy was doing; slightly easier than her, it seemed, with claws to dig into the earthy surface. A waterfall thundered nearby, just far enough away that it didn’t spray on them, and that also promised a water source at the bottom. Margin would probably have to bring him something to eat, unless this happened to be the chosen pit for dying birds to fling themselves into, but at least Squidgy wouldn’t get dehydrated.

After a long and arduous descent, the ground finally sloped off. It was dark down here, shadowed from what little moonlight existed and almost as blocked off during the day, but that made it all the more perfect a place for Squidgy. Margin looked up and squinted as much as she could, just able to pick out where the floating structures were through the mist, and seeing the one tall abandoned building where only the outer structure remained.

Nobody went into Octo Valley anymore, not since Marina had dragged all the octolings to the surface. There was one singular entrance into the domes down here in the bottom of the valley, hidden somewhere within all the dried plants and through multiple layers of grates, so there was no chance of Squidgy finding his way in there by accident. This would be the perfect place for him, until he was needed. Or perhaps he could remain here, safe, while the other beasts she led here could run rampant in the city instead and face whatever dangers the inklings might throw at them…

Either way, she knew it was possible to get them into the city now, and that was the last thing standing in the way of her plan. She could do this. She could _do_ this! All she needed to do now was go on one final journey back out to the mutant forest and set up the stereo to lure the creatures out.

That could wait, for now. She knew exactly when the perfect time would be.

* * *

As soon as his job was done, Miles ran like his life depended on it. His hearts raced as he sprinted along the mountain paths, expecting someone to appear out of the leaves any moment – the police, Marina, Margin telling him he hadn’t done it right somehow – but there was nobody out here, not this late, and he reached the path to the hotel out of breath and with aching legs.

He waited there a moment, afraid someone would realise he’d been up to something if he went back into the hotel in his current state. What was he even _doing_? He didn’t like this. For what purpose could Margin possibly want to deactivate the barrier around the city? He didn’t understand, and he didn’t know why he’d let her talk him into this.

She hadn’t, really. She’d just forced him into it because she knew he was too afraid to refuse.

Once he was finally able to breathe steadily again, Miles made his way up the path at a much slower pace, feeling his hair twist and curl and almost poke him in his one remaining eye, and he put all his concentration into trying to keep it still as a distraction. All the lights were off, including the few outside ones that usually lit up the courtyard at night, so his prediction about the hotel being affected by the power outage too was correct.

He hadn’t _wanted_ to do this.

Nobody was in the reception area, which meant there was nobody to witness him arriving back at nine in the evening, but there was an eerie light coming from the common room that prompted him to look in – just a few octolings gathered around by the light of their phone torches, one of which was quickly pointed directly at him. _Ow_.

“ **Oh, hey Miles** ,” Cecil greeted him, quickly removing the stinging light from his eye. “ **Power’s out. Just like the good ol’ days, eh?** ”

“ **Anten’s been out and checked. Twice.”** Another octoling, who had changed her name to Ibis recently, squinted at the screen of her phone as she spoke, the gleam reflecting off her hair. **“There’s nothing wrong with the generator, so the problem must be from somewhere else.** ”

“ **You think the inklings could have botched something? They’re not super great with electronics.** ” Cecil hummed thoughtfully to themself.

Miles left before he had to hear them speculate any further.

The urge to race up the stairs and back to the safety of his room was quelled by the desire to be as quiet as possible, unnoticed, and he ended up climbing them slowly, struggling to see a little in the darkness. It felt like an age before he finally reached the third floor. Margin’s door loomed ominously nearby, with a thin strip of moonlight from the window drawing a border around it.

… He shouldn’t have been able to see light there. The doors were supposed to be near-sealed when shut, one of the many leftover traits from when this place was actually a proper functioning hotel. Had Margin been in such a hurry when she dragged him out earlier this morning that she hadn’t closed her door properly?

It would be a death wish, snooping in her room, but she wasn’t going to explain anything to him herself.

Miles looked around, listening for signs of anyone who might see him, but most of the octolings were in their rooms or asleep at this hour. He gave Margin’s door an experimental nudge, and it swung open a little wider with a foreboding creak.

“ **U-um… Margin**?” he said quietly, in case she’d somehow managed to sneak back in before him, but there was no sound from her room. Miles, not wanting to push the door any further, slipped down into octo form to squeeze through the gap he couldn’t fit through otherwise, reforming on the far side. The room was quiet and empty, with no sign of anything out of the norm – although, her note- and sketchbook lay closed on the desk. Didn’t she usually take them everywhere with her?

This might have been a huge mistake, but it was also the only way he was going to find out what was going on.

Miles tentatively opened the first page of the sketchbook, not sure what to expect but being greeted with the innocent map of the mountain that Margin had sketched out on the first day they explored together (or rather, he had followed Margin wherever she wanted to go). As he turned the pages, it became apparent that Margin didn’t care whether her pages had lines or not, because the sketchbook was scattered with notes in her messy handwriting. Miles hadn’t really seen her write much before, but it was surprising how often her words switched languages, sometimes even mid-note. Did she do that sub-consciously, or was it to make them harder for anyone who couldn’t speak both octarian and the Inkopolis language to understand?

There were various sketches in here, and pages where Margin had made very basic doodles of some of the agents as well as Marina, with scribbled writing next to them – mostly basic info, but he did notice a rather long list of ‘possible weaknesses’ for Agent 3, and she was drawn a lot more angry-looking than the others. It was a little unnerving, seeing how much thought Margin had put into this.

He opened the notebook instead and was greeted by a scribble of some kind of monstrous-looking quadrupedal creature, along with a bunch of notes – _good hearing, likes rotten fruit?, possibly attracted to sound and smell_ – and stared at it for a moment in confusion. Was Margin making up some kind of imaginary beast? This wasn’t what he’d expected to find.

On the next page was a different one entirely, one that was huge and ugly and surrounded by trees. Margin sure did have an imagination for creepy things.

The more pages he looked through, though, the more unnerving it got. There were a lot of sketches of this one creature, different angles and parts, the occasional note – whatever this was, it could climb trees, liked to eat rotten things, ‘don’t let him lick unhealed wounds. Infects bad’.

Hadn’t… hadn’t Margin gotten a really badly infected injury a while back?

Another page turned, and there was something held in place near the spine with a piece of tape, something dark and blueish and vaguely circular, and under it was written ‘scales’. Miles felt a chill on his back.

Whatever this creature that Margin was drawing was, it wasn’t something from her imagination – it was something that actually _existed_ , and that was _horrifying_.

Was that what the barrier was for? To keep things like _this_ out of the city?

And Margin had just made him disable part of it…

This was bad. This was _very_ bad.

Miles didn’t know what Margin was up to, but he now knew for certain it was something he needed to try and stop.

* * *

Faye hadn’t realised she was so close to falling asleep again until she woke up, drowsy from her accidental nap and apparently unable to regain her earlier skill of snapping awake right as she was about to pass out on the train. It was warmer here than it had been out at the lake, and after the walk there and back, as well as the energy drained from her for finally putting everything out in the open, she wanted to give into the temptation to keep her eyes closed and go back to sleep. The only thing prompting her to actually stay awake was the fact that she was on a train, which meant at some point having to leave the train, and she’d rather be completely awake for that.

Although, now that she thought about it, this was rather warm for the side of a train carriage chair, and also in the wrong place—

She realised with a start that she was leaning against Marie, her head almost resting on her shoulder, and Faye hurriedly sat up. “ _Oh_ —sorry,” she said quickly, clearing her throat, now sitting rigidly against the back of her own seat as she adjusted the angle of her hat from where it had been pushed off-kilter.

The smile Marie gave her was so sweet, it made her relax instantly. “Don’t worry about it. You, ah… you seemed tired. We’ll be at Inkopolis in about ten minutes, I think?” There was a definite hint of colour in her cheeks, and her eyes darted around a little, not quite able to keep her gaze on Faye for long, so she must have been at least _slightly_ embarrassed. “You can sleep more if you want, I’ll wake you before we get there. Callie’s out like a light in any car or train, I’m used to it.”

Sleeping more sounded nice, but Faye knew she was completely awake now – and had been absolutely spoiled by the nap she’d just taken; this lonely train seat felt uncomfortable and cold already. “Nah, I’m good. Thanks.” There was part of her that was debating if she was bold enough to lean against Marie again, while awake – or maybe pretend to be asleep again, but that felt wrong, somehow, and what was wrong with her why did she want contact _this_ _bad_ when she’d never craved it from anyone else in her life before – but all her thoughts were taken over by a strange noise as the train jolted suddenly.

The lights went out, and the engine made a quiet whirring noise as if it was powering down. Faye threw a slightly concerned look at Marie, who she could barely see in the darkness, and then out the window, but there was nothing to see there either. A few seconds later the carriage’s lights flickered back on again, the engine noise came back but slightly different, and Faye was left a little miffed.

“Does… that normally happen on a train?” she asked.

“Uhh, not normally, no,” Marie told her, leaning out into the aisle a little to look around as if that would give some kind of explanation. Faye could hear the few other passengers on their carriage murmuring to each other too.

Hmm. She didn’t really want to be on a train, suddenly.

The intercom played a chime, and a voice on a harsh-sounding mic sounded. “ _Apologies for the disruption. We connected to the Inkopolis electric rails a few minutes ago, and there appears to be a power outage. We’ve switched back to our reserves in the meantime and will be calling at Inkopolis Grand Station in seven minutes. Passengers for stations further along the line may experience delays if the outage continues as we will need to recharge_.”

“A power outage…?” Marie echoed, staring at the back of the seat in front of her with a confused expression.

“The zapfish?” Faye suggested quietly.

“I don’t know… that wouldn’t make sense. The octarians are pretty much dispersed by now.” Marie kept her voice low, taking out her phone. “I’ll check the power cut map online, see if it’s been reported yet.”

Faye determined it was safe to watch her phone screen for now since the online maps weren’t private. Marie waited for the page to load before getting an error message, since the train’s WiFi had been turned off to save power, then clicked her tongue and switched to mobile data instead. A map of Inkopolis appeared, and it took a few refreshes before a notice finally appeared on the page.

“It seems to be fairly local to here.” Marie tilted her screen a little for Faye to see better. “It’s not affecting the city, at least, unless they’re just being very slow at reporting it. Might just be a faulty wire or something.”

“Oh. Well, that’s good.” At least there probably wouldn’t be problems on the metro if that was the case. Faye didn’t fancy walking half way across the city. “There’s probably people living nearby, right? Other than, like… y’know…”

“It might have hit the hotel, yeah, that area’s not listed on this map anymore,” Marie said in a low voice so nobody else on the train would overhear. “There’s the guard, too. They’ll want the power back on that. The octolings won’t be without power for long, hopefully.”

“The guard’s down? Is that a problem?”

“Nah. It’s just a giant bug zapper anyhow, they don’t want any of the funky lizard things getting into the city. Bad for tourism.” Marie shrugged, returning her phone to her pocket. “Calamari County doesn’t have a barrier around it, and it’s not like the place is infested. We got a few strange bugs, that’s all. I still have one Callie caught and gave to me when we were like… nine?” She smiled. “I’m pretty sure we illegally smuggled him into the city, but he’s at the outpost now, so it’s not as if anyone’s going to find him.”

The rest of the journey went smoothly, soon with an announcement that they’d reached somewhere the rails still had power and so there wouldn’t be any further delays, and the station was pretty quiet when they arrived, with most of the shops and ticket booths closed for the day by now. Marie checked the power map again – no difference – and they transferred to the metro. Faye was ready to get home and sleep for real, once she transferred all these fish to the freezer. It had been a long day, but certainly a good one. She felt more at peace than she had been in a long time.

Marie did another check once they reached Inkopolis Plaza. “Looks like they’ve located the source of the problem now and it’s being fixed, so the power should be back soon.”

It didn’t take long to get back to the valley from there, and Marie returned the fishing gear to its previous place in a much more organised way than it had been this morning while Faye stocked the freezer. She was sure she was going to get sick of fish very quickly, but at least it was _food_ , and that was what she needed.

Faye washed her hands after, glad she’d done so before boarding the train as well or else the ticket inspector might have given her some very concerned looks along with his slight grimace at the lingering fish smell. Marie was waiting by the open door when she returned, her ears twitching slightly and a concerned look on her face.

“Everything okay?” Faye checked.

“Yeah… yeah, it’s nothing, I think I’m just tired,” Marie shook her head, turning towards Faye with a half-hearted smile. “You gonna be alright now?”

“Yeah. Thanks for suggesting this,” Faye nodded, hoping her eyes could express the gratitude her words could not. “And for… well, everything, I guess.”

“No problem. I’m always here to listen, okay?”

“Yeah— me too.” There was a pang of sadness in her chest knowing Marie had to go now, and that it would likely be a long while before she saw her again, given how busy the idol was. Faye let herself cling to that desire for contact, holding her arms out a little. “You want a hug now there’s less fish guts on me?”

Marie laughed at her joke, a brighter smile appearing on her face. “Sure.” She stepped forward into the embrace, pulling Faye into one as well.

Faye was instantly converted into a hugging person. It took her a moment to work out where she could actually put her arms, since Marie still had her backpack on, soon managing to settle them just above, letting her chin rest on Marie’s shoulder. She’d never been _this_ close to her before, but despite the fact they both still had the underlying smell of the lake, Faye wished she could stay here like this forever – here, with Marie in her arms and the warmth of her body against hers and the gentle touch of her hands against her back. Faye knew she couldn’t remain here for long, or things would start to get really awkward, but she so _wished_ she could and _ugh_ she loved Marie _so_ _much_ and she didn’t want her to have to walk out because it felt like she was the only thing keeping her grounded.

She needed to let her go, though, as overwhelming as the not-being-held world seemed. Faye tried to reign in the sigh her body wanted her to let out, wishing she could just speak her feelings and it _wouldn’t_ be weird and awkward and embarrassing and make the girl she had a festering crush on laugh at her because she was silly and didn’t stand a chance. She had to move away before she made things uncomfortable, even though Marie hadn’t really made any effort to do so either, and Faye resigned herself to her fate.

A new wave of emotions hit her as soon as she moved, and she had no idea what new power possessed her – maybe the closeness had lulled her, maybe it was her dumb gay heart taking control – but she tilted her head up, just a little, and as she released her from the hug, lay a brief kiss on Marie’s cheek.

Her friend’s sudden shocked expression was what quickly dragged her back into the reality of what just happened.

Why… had she done that?

“Um—so, anyway.” Faye stammered, suddenly hit by the wave of awkwardness she had been trying to prevent. Her face felt so _warm_ , and she hoped it hadn’t been just a moment ago. Dear cod.

“Haha—hah—yeah.” Marie gave a dazed-looking nod, unable to look Faye in the eye. She put a hand to her cheek, the one Faye had kissed, and the colour of her fingers contrasted just how _blue_ her face looked now. A slightly wonky grin spread on her face. “I-I, um, I should… h-head home? Yeah. Okay. Um— yeah. See ya later.”

She ducked out the door quickly after that, and all Faye could do was stare at the empty doorframe after she left. Gone. Just like that.

Faye knew she’d fucked up. She’d done something stupid and impulsive _again_ and it had embarrassed Marie and she’d ruined things _again_ and _why did she always have to be like this_!?

Today had been so _nice_ , too, and now she just had to go and mess _everything_ up.

The rattle of the grate snapped Faye from her stunned daze at last, and all she wanted to do was curl up and scream again. This was _exactly_ what she’d just been worried about! A headache pulsed in her brain after showing her mercy all day, and she felt the urge to punch something but didn’t have nearly enough energy for it.

She needed to stop – just _stop_ , go change her clothes to something that didn’t stink of fish, and get some sleep. Maybe she’d just acted stupid because she was exhausted. Feeling the numbness spreading through her once again, Faye finally dragged her tense body away from the door to go and do that, hoping this was something that would be forgotten fast.

* * *

Marie’s brain was an _absolute_ mess this evening.

For one, there was the fact that Faye had finally opened up to her, and the past she’d revealed made so many things make _so_ _much_ _more_ sense, and Marie was trying her best to not feel guilty over things she didn’t know about before because that was _not_ going to be helpful. Her head already felt weird after talking about her parents for the first time in years, because Faye was the only person she’d spoken to about that who wasn’t a therapist, and she wasn’t even sure _why_ she’d been so open suddenly, oversharing like that, but… perhaps that had been what made Faye trust her, knowing she was more likely to understand what she’d gone through.

And then Faye had kissed her – on the cheek – and Marie’s brain had completely _fried_ and she just removed herself from the situation as fast as she could before she outed herself as a stupid gay mess.

That was all that occupied her thoughts as she walked home, glad that Callie was either asleep or had just retreated to her room for the night by the time she got there – but more likely asleep, because otherwise Callie _would_ have come out here to pester her about the events of the day because she _knew_ her cousin had spent their last full day off before the concert with Faye. Marie had paid less attention to what Callie was doing, but knowing her she was probably either going for a hike around the mall or spending the day with Jake, or both.

Marie took a long shower to cleanse herself of the _fishing_ smell, banishing it to the laundry basket, and climbed into bed in her pyjamas with a book and the knowledge that there was no way she would be able to sleep at 9:30pm despite waking up early this morning. She had work tomorrow again and, not for the first time, wished Callie’s regular sleep schedule was something that ran in the family.

As she stared mindlessly at the words in front of her, all she could think about was the fact that _Faye had kissed her_ and she didn’t know _why_. Faye didn’t strike her as the type of person who gave people platonic kisses, but also it _was_ on her cheek so _maybe_ it was? Or what if she’d _realised_ that Marie had a crush on her and was using it to tease her now? That did feel like something Faye would do.

Or what if Faye actually _liked_ her? In the would-like-to-kiss-her-again sort of way? Because Marie would _certainly_ like to kiss her but maybe like, on the lips? She let her unread book fall off to one side, burying her face in her hands and feeling how incredibly warm her face was.

Ha ha. Oh cod. She was such a mess. A stupid gay mess. Maybe she actually had a chance to _do_ something earlier, but no, she ran away just like she always used to do when she first realised she _had_ a crush on Faye.

She was thinking way too much into this. Faye was probably just teasing her, or maybe she was secretly affectionate with people she was close enough with (Marie hadn’t seen her when she spent time with Eight, really, but she could hardly go up to the young octoling she barely knew and ask ‘hey does your friend kiss your cheek sometimes’ because that would be very strange and awkward).

That didn’t mean she couldn’t dream.

* * *

Margin looked around briefly to double-check there was nothing dangerous for Squidgy in the crevice of Octo Valley before leaving him to rest after the journey here, hoping he would behave and stay put in the valley when it was a little difficult to climb out – although that probably wouldn’t affect him nearly as much as it did her, as she reached the top of the cliffs slightly out of breath. She rode back up the mountain, leaving her bike in its usual place and checking how much fuel was left in the tank. According to the meter, she had more than enough fuel for the final journey she would need out to the forest.

When she headed back up to the hotel, the road was illuminated in some places again by the scattered lights, so either Miles really had caused a temporary problem or someone had been out to fix the power outage by now. As she reached the path leading up to her forced residence, she realised there was someone standing by the trees, waiting and watching.

It was Miles. Why was he still out here? “ **You know you can go back inside without me** ,” she told him simply, thinking it silly he’d waited when it was already late at night and getting cold.

Miles stared at her for a long moment, his eye wide and worried. He looked up the path, towards the hotel. “ **Margin… whatever you’re doing, you need to stop.** ”

“ **What**?” What was that supposed to mean? What was he talking about?

“ **You’re doing something dangerous, I know you are. And I just—I don’t like it. It’s wrong.** ”

“ **I’m not doing anything _wrong_. You have to understand.**” Why was he starting this now? Margin frowned. “ **You know we have to do something about the inklings. We can’t let them control us forever.** ”

“ **But they—they’re not controlling us? We have freedom up here.** ” There was definitely something on his mind, something he wasn’t saying, he was speaking in that way he did when he _knew_ what he was saying would make her angry so there wasn’t even any point.

**“We don’t have _freedom_. We do whatever Marina says we can!”**

**“Marina’s not an inkling.”**

**“She’s _on their side_!”**

“ **I don’t—I don’t think there are _sides_ , Margin. It doesn’t feel like that at all.**” Miles shook his head, looking down at his hands – they were shaking. “ **A-and you’re doing something, something really bad, I think. Something that will hurt people.** ”

“ **I’m hurting the people who _deserve_ _it_** ,” Margin emphasised, not understanding why he didn’t get that. “ **If you don’t understand, that’s fine. You don’t have to. You just need to help when the time comes.** ”

“ **I don’t _want_ to help, Margin!**” His voice shook, too, as he tried his best to betray her. “ **I don’t want to do this anymore, I don’t _want_ to hurt people.**”

“ **What you _want_ doesn’t matter**!” Margin scoffed at him. She couldn’t believe he was being so selfish. “ **This is a _war_!**”

“ **The war ended over a century ago! The inklings aren’t an _army_ , Margin, they’re just—they’re people living their lives.**” Miles flinched away from her pre-emptively. “ **Most of them didn’t even know we still existed.** ”

“ **Oh, good! I’m so glad everything is fine and happy now because the inklings thought they’d _banished us to extinction_!**” Margin’s hair twitched in frustration. Why did Miles have to be so difficult suddenly? A realisation was slowly whistling through her brain. “ **You’ve been near the inklings again, haven’t you? They’re _manipulative_ , Miles, they just want to _use_ you!**”

“ **At least they’re not _using_ me to set dangerous monsters loose in the city!” **Miles snapped.

Margin had never heard him sound angry before, not once. Miles was gentle and patient and quiet and got on with things and he’d _never_ raised his voice around her before. The sound made Margin’s hair flare like angry snakes, and the surprise was enough to blind her for a moment to what he’d actually said – _just_ a moment, until the words sunk in. “ **Dangerous monsters** ,” she echoed, her eyes reflecting a little more of the moonlight as two and two clicked together in her brain. “ **How… would you _know_ about that…?**”

Miles opened his mouth for a second to respond, a shocked look tugging on his features as he too realised what he’d said. “ **I… I-I don’t…** ”

There were two possible ways he could have found out, and the first one, that he’d managed to see Squidgy following her when the visibility was already so low, would definitely not have caused him to look so afraid and guilty – and he’d said _monsters_ , not just one. “ **You went in my room, didn’t you?** ” She’d left her books behind today. They were the only other thing nearby that contained evidence the beasts existed. “ **You were snooping around my room while I was out!?** ”

“ **N-no, no, I just—** ” Miles must have quickly realised what a terrible liar he was. “ **I-I wasn’t snooping, I just—you wouldn’t tell me what was going on, I-I didn’t know what you were making me do, so I—** ”

“ **So you couldn’t _trust_ me, is that it?**” Margin snarled, trying her best to keep her volume under control when they were so close to the hotel. “ **You’re supposed to be my _best friend_ , Miles!**”

“ **I-I know, an-and you are, but— but you wouldn’t tell me and—** ”

“ **I was right not to, since I clearly can’t trust _you_!**” Margin knew the hurt was clear in her voice, but she didn’t care. He deserved to feel bad for what he’d done. Miles was her _best friend_ and he’d _betrayed_ her.

Now he was here, a shivering mess, probably going to beg for forgiveness like a miserable little traitor would. “ **Y-you can! I’m sorry, you can, I promise, I—** ”

“ **Don’t talk to me about _promises_! I’ve heard more than enough of them from _Marina_.**” Margin threw her arms out, and Miles flinched. She scoffed. “ **Fine then. If it makes you happy, I don’t need your help. I don’t need _you_. I can do this _myself_ , and when Octavio returns, don’t expect me to persuade him you’re worth saving again.**”

Her words didn’t have nearly as much impact as she expected them to – Miles really was a traitor after all, if he didn’t care about their leader. What did she expect? Miles had shown doubts about both her and Octavio all along, and she’d been stupid enough to believe they’d go away with a few encouraging words. “ **I—I know you don’t. I think… maybe you need someone to ask you to stop, though. And think about what you’re doing.** ” Miles gave her a pathetically hopeful look, as if that was supposed to make her forgive everything that _everyone_ had ever done to wrong her. “ **Isn’t that what a real friend would do?** ”

“ **You don’t know anything about _real_ friends, or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.**” It was hardly a conversation. “ **But since you’re _asking_ me, no. Everything’s in place now.**” Not quite everything, but close enough. “ **I couldn’t stop this even if I wanted to.** ”

“ **But—but maybe you wouldn’t have to, not on your own! Maybe I could find some way to help, or Marina would know—** ”

“ **Don’t you dare breathe a _word of this_ to Marina!**” Margin snapped, her hair lashing furiously and out of her control.

Miles gasped and backed away from her outburst, glancing behind him in fear as his shoulder bumped against the trunk of a tree. His gazed fixed back on her, wary, calculating, and Margin immediately knew she’d made a mistake by giving any hint that the suggestion had worried her. “ **She needs to know, Margin. People are going to get hurt – an-and not just inklings – or _worse_.**” He was being far too bold. Miles was pushing his luck.

He was threatening to ruin _everything_ she’d worked so hard for. Everything she _needed_.

Her greatest friend had turned on a dime and become her greatest threat.

Margin knew Miles was weak, no matter how much turf war he’d done by now. She could overpower him easily, remove the threat, make sure there was no chance of anyone _ruining_ things or of Miles betraying her ever again.

But she couldn’t do it, because he was Miles. No matter how easy it would be, she couldn’t do that to him.

Perhaps she was the weak one after all.

“ **Then don’t worry about it, because it’s none of your business anymore.** ” Her voice came out far colder than the burning anger she could still feel simmering away inside her. She stepped forward, her sheer fury evident only by the way her hair still twitched and waved and threatened to crush anything that went within range like a coiled snake. “ **And if you tell anyone about any of this, _anyone_ at all, I’ll make sure you’re up there with the inklings on the list of people who get hurt.**”

Miles backed further against the tree trunk, staring at her with sheer terror in his eyes as he realised just what danger he was really in. He couldn’t see inside of her, he didn’t know she didn’t have it in her to rip the life out of him right here and now, and that was an advantage it hurt to have.

He was the only friend she’d had, the only person left on her side, and now he was gone, too.

“ **Well? Have I made myself clear?** ” she prompted more harshly when he didn’t respond.

“ **Yes**!” He said quickly after that, nodding weakly, his voice small. “ **Y-yes, M-Margin, I—I un—understand. Very— very clear.** ”

“ **Good** ,” she growled. “ **Now get out of my sight.** ”

He said nothing else, just gave another fast nod as he scrambled away, dashing back up the path to the hotel where he would _not_ speak to anyone about her, if he had any common sense. Margin didn’t watch him go.

She was a festering spiral of anger and other emotions she couldn’t put a name to and didn’t care to. She wanted to scream and yell and snap the nearest tree in half with her bare hands, as difficult a task as that may be, but instead she just stood there with clenched fists and let the fire slowly simmer out more with each passing breath. Things would be okay. Her plan was almost done. There was only one more step, and she didn’t need Miles for it. Her plan didn’t require _friends_.

Margin was Octavio’s top soldier. She was more than capable of doing everything alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (doesn't describe how Miles cuts the power bc I don't have any clue how he would do it) anyway. kids these days are so talented amiright
> 
> unless it changes before I post it the chapter url for this one begins with 666 and I think that's very fitting
> 
> also. kissie :]


	26. Extra Push

It was two days since she’d seen her, and Marie still hadn’t heard a word from Faye. This wasn’t exactly _unusual_ , because Faye didn’t message her every single day, but Marie was already missing the casual chatter and the good morning messages she’d sometimes wake up to, and it stung a little after what had happened just before she left – because if that kiss _had_ meant something, surely Faye would have followed up on it by now? Instead, she was silent, and Marie hadn’t found the guts or conversation starter to message her herself yet.

Instead, she’d thrown herself right back into work, because the concert was in a week, and no matter how much time they got to prepare it’d never feel like enough. The routines for the performance felt like muscle memory still, but she and Callie would run through them each day anyway, and Marie would fight on even when her entire body ached because she never had met her personal goal of ‘try to get back in shape before the concert’, and she was still balancing her regular work on top of all that. It was exhausting, and she couldn’t wait for the league finals, mostly just so they would be over.

She was taking a longer break for lunch today, which was mostly Callie’s suggestion because Marie had spent the entire morning (or at least the few hours since she’d woken up) re-reading all the stage notes again and again to ingrain them into her memory. Relying on Callie to remember their set list usually ended in disaster, and this felt like so much more than a regular one-off concert. This was the first one they’d done together in ages, potentially the last one they would do for some time, and also connected to one of the biggest sports events in Inkopolis’ recent history. No pressure!

It took all of her willpower to not go directly back to her reliance on caffeine, and kept on walking past the one chain café with the strong coffee she often ordered, and her aimless wandering took her to near Inkopolis Square instead. There were a few good places for food here, and she considered getting something from Sean’s food truck, maybe catch up with her old friend if the place wasn’t too busy – doubtful, since it was late lunch time – but a few familiar words made her freeze for a moment.

“Oh! Hey, I know you!”

That was always enough to make her heart skip a beat in public, because getting recognised was _not_ good and always caused a monumental fuss, especially in somewhere as crowded as the square – but the words sounded a little too far away to be aimed at her, thank goodness. It was none of her business, and she didn’t want to draw attention to herself by looking around, but she spared a short glance in the direction she thought she’d heard it in.

She was surprised to see Four, standing casually with his back against one of the buildings near the lobby. Someone had approached him and was chatting away, and judging from the forced polite look on his face Four didn’t have a clue who this person was.

“You’re Team Geode’s roller, right? Rollo? I saw you in the quarter-finals the other day! You’re one of the best slayers I’ve ever _seen_!”

“Uhh, thank you?” Four was not a master of dealing with fans, it seemed, or used to having any in the first place. He offered a slightly awkward smile as he habitually pulled at the collar of his white inky rider. “I definitely have my team’s turf control to thank for that too, but—”

“You have a _ton_ of talent on your own too!” They clapped their hands together excitedly. “I’m, like, a roller main myself, do you have any cool tips? Like, the best way to train, or how you warm up, or anything like that!”

“Well… I’m, uh, sort of waiting for a friend right now? Just, uh… keep practicing a lot… I guess?”

_Four, Four, Four_. Marie shook her head. She didn’t know who he was waiting for and it definitely wasn’t her, but _someone_ needed to save this poor man. After double-checking that her mask was sufficiently covering the lower half of her face and her hair was still mostly stuffed into her cap, because if this person could recognise Four from a few minutes of screen time that made them slightly higher risk than usual of seeing through her disguise, she strolled over towards the two of them. “Hey, Rollo.” His actual name still felt so weird to say. “How’s it going?”

Four looked surprised to see her, his visible eyebrow raising a little, but he quickly bluffed it off because he wanted the escape she’d offered him. “Oh, hey! … Marin.”

The stranger glanced at her, didn’t seem to require a second one, and fortunately accepted that it would be rude to hang around any longer when the friend they thought he’d been waiting for had arrived. “It was nice talking to you! Good luck in the semi-finals!” They dashed off a second later, and Four offered a polite-but-unseen wave.

He let out a relieved sigh a moment later. “ _Thank_ you. It’s so weird having people recognise me. How on earth do you deal with this but five hundred times worse?”

“I don’t,” Marie grinned behind her mask as she pointed to it. “What did you think the disguise was for?”

“Fair point, fair point.” He crossed his arms casually once more, relaxing against the wall he leaned on. “I haven’t seen you in a while. Bet you’re busy, huh?”

“Now that’s the understatement of the year,” she sighed. “I barely get a free moment, what with work and the concert. I’d ask if you wanted to grab lunch, but it sounded like you’re waiting on someone.”

“Wow, I am _incredibly_ flattered someone as prestigious yourself wants to ask me on a date,” Four said with the cheeky grin he always adorned when poking fun at her, “but I’m afraid you’re not my type.”

“You know that’s not what I mean, you obnoxious oaf.” She lightly smacked his arm, and he gave a hearty laugh. “At the very least I can spare a few minutes to stop anyone else bothering you while you wait, now that you’re Mister Cool-and-Popular.”

“Yep, that’s my name now.” He gave a sarcastic nod. “… I’ll be honest, I’m just waiting for Chance. I’m gonna try and talk to him when he’s done with matches, and the broadcast for the match ended a few minutes ago, so…”

“Aw, baby’s first flirt. They grow up so fast.” It felt so good to talk with Four again, someone who she could just bounce her sarcasm off of in a light-hearted way. She took up his position, leaning her back against the wall next to him. “Good luck to you, though, man.”

“See, you just _assumed_ that.” Four raised his shoulders in a shrug, but they fell a moment later. “… You’re totally right though. Thanks.” He gave her a _look_. “Good luck to you too, if you haven’t made a move yet.”

Marie gave him an _incredibly_ suspicious glare. “On _who_?” Four always seemed to know something, and she was starting to suspect Callie might have blabbed one of her greatest secrets.

“Faye, of course. You like her, right?”

An even more suspicious glare, though this time it wasn’t entirely aimed at _him_. “Did Callie tell you something?”

“No, I just have eyes. Well, one that works, at least. I know what a gay mess looks like.” He grinned at her, triumphant, and Marie felt a little embarrassed that this meant he’d only been _suspecting_ it all this time and she’d just outright _confirmed_ it for him. “You act differently around her than anyone else I’ve seen you talk to – granted that’s not a lot of people, but the point still stands.”

“Ah, shit, do I?” That was… surprisingly upsetting to hear, actually, and Marie wondered just how many people had noticed that. What if Faye herself had noticed? Ugh…

Four pushed himself away from the wall suddenly, his senses trained on the entrance to the lobby. “Oh, he’s out! M, could you, uh… do me a favour and wait here? I’ll only be a moment.” He adjusted his hat slightly, looking uncharacteristically nervous. “I just don’t want it to look like I’ve been waiting around here on my own for him, y’know?”

“Oh, I can’t have you looking like you’re _uncool,_ now, can I?” Marie rolled her eyes at him, taking her phone out of her pocket. “Alright, but you get five minutes max, I still need to eat lunch.”

“Thank you so much. I owe you one, if you ever need a wingman.” He winked at her, and Marie could only imagine how abysmally that would go.

She waited there, opening a random app on her phone to look at to pretend she wasn’t paying attention when in reality she was incredibly nosy and wanted to see how things played out. She watched out of the corner of her eye as Four approached the team leaving the lobby – cod, he was so brave, doing that on his own – and greeted them, asking Chance if he could speak to him for a moment. Marie fought to recall the names of the others from the one time they’d met, watching as… Mercedes? exchanged a look with her teammate, one with a similar expression to the one Marie had given Four just a moment ago.

“Alright, we’ll save a seat for you,” Mercedes said as she gave Chance an enthusiastic shoulder pat and motioned to her other teammates. Eight’s gaze switched between her and Chance, a confused expression on her face, but their fourth teammate put a hand on her shoulder to herd her away, rolling his eyes as they left.

“So, uh… what’s up?” Chance asked once they were alone – or at least, as alone as it was possible to be in the middle of the square. There was a slightly mesmerised look in his eyes, a hint of colour in his pale cheeks, that suggested perhaps Four’s crush on him wasn’t completely one-sided.

Marie really hoped that wasn’t how she looked whenever she saw Faye.

“Okay, so just—just a quick thing, I won’t keep you,” Four told him, clearing his throat and stuffing his hands into his pockets, like he was trying to be cool. “I was wondering if, y’know, after the tournament is over, no matter who wins or where our teams place or anything— if you’d want to, like… get lunch together, maybe?”

Chance blinked in surprise, his eyebrows disappearing under his curved fringe. “I-I, uh—yeah! Yeah, that… sounds nice!” He smiled brightly.

“Right! Cool.” The smiled was mirrored back from Four, an expression Marie hadn’t quite seen on him before. “I’ll, uh… get back to you on details later, but— good luck on your next match, yeah? You were killin’ it out there today.” He raised one hand in a wave as he left.

“Oh—oh, thank you, you too!” Chance called after him, tripping a little on his words as he hurried to catch up with his teammates.

Marie turned her gaze back to her phone screen with nothing of real interest on it as Four headed back over. Once he was within hearing range, she looked up again, holding her other hand up flat for him. “I don’t know how you made it look so easy.”

Four slapped his hand against hers in a high-five, a grin on his face as he spun and leaned back against the wall again. “My incredible charm and good looks.” His fake smoulder fell apart quickly. “Holy shit I got a date. Oh my cod.”

Marie couldn’t help the laugh that burst out of her. “Good on you, buddy. You gotta let me know how it goes.”

“Okay, okay.” Four rolled his eyes. “Is the offer still down for platonic friend lunch?”

“Scandalous,” Marie joked. “Sure, as long as we go somewhere I know. I don’t have time to learn the allergen list of a new place today.”

She ended up heading back to the coffee shop after all, making a pledge to herself to _not_ order the strong coffee. It was nice to spend time with her friend again, even if it was only for a short while as they ate lunch. Four had to leave soon after they were finished eating, because even though he didn’t have an official league match today his team still had to train for the semi-finals in a few days, and as she watched him go, Marie thought about what she’d just seem him do, how he’d just… gone up and asked Chance out. Was it really _that_ easy?

Marie took her phone out, setting her plate aside as one of the staff went around collecting the used tableware so they’d know she was done. She opened the messaging app and hesitated for a long moment before typing.

[14:45] hey I know this is kind of outta the blue but would you like to get lunch tomorrow

[14:45] things are kinda hectic lately bc work and I don’t have a whole lot of free time but if you’re around and up to going it’d be nice to see you again

She forced herself to switch to another app while she waited for a response – and she didn’t even know how long it would take, or if she would, Faye could be asleep or something – but it was only half a minute before she got one.

[14:46] I would love to but I’m not any less broke than I was 2 days ago

[14:46] you could be, like, a millionaire and I’d still offer to pay for lunch

[14:46] there’s no winning here is there

[14:46] what time and where?

[14:46] haha <3

[14:46] we can meet at the plaza again if you want there’s a few quiet cafés around

[14:46] you know beans?

[14:46] lb&h? I know where it is but I’ve never been inside

[14:46] we could go there maybe if you want

[14:46] plaza at 1pm? Or slightly later since I need to actually get there, but

[14:46] sure. see u there <3

And Marie sat there, staring at her phone for a good few minutes and glad she’d put her mask back on to hide her giddy grin. Maybe she didn’t quite have the courage to ask Faye outright _on a date_ , but… at least there was another opportunity to spend time with her. Another opportunity for something to happen, for her to not run away this time, even though she told herself not to hold her hopes up too high.

Perhaps someday she’d have half the bravery Four did, but for now, the sliver she _did_ contain would be enough for the rest of today’s work to be slightly less stressful as she looked forward to tomorrow.

* * *

Faye had sort of expected that Marie would message her at some point, but she hadn’t been able to predict what exactly she’d say, or if she’d be mad at her for her impulsiveness. There was part of her that felt like she should apologise for it, and part of her that was just too ashamed to bring it up again and _maybe_ Marie would have forgotten already. What she had absolutely _not_ expected was for Marie to invite her out to lunch.

It was… kind of like a date, maybe, but they’d had lunch together before and Faye was pretty sure _that_ had not been a date. Making assumptions would only get her hopes up; for now she was just glad that Marie wasn’t upset at her, and she decided that if this was something Marie wanted to talk about, she would. Otherwise, forgotten, it never happened. Faye still cringed internally a little every time she thought about it.

She was absolutely not going to do anything stupid and impulsive today.

At the very least, she tried to find what the nicest-looking outfit she had was – although there wasn’t really a whole lot to choose from. All she had here was a handful of shirts and her old turf gear, as well as some old things that belonged to the captain which she didn’t dare touch (plus, well, showing up to lunch with your friend in her grandfather’s clothes sounded like an extra dose of embarrassment she didn’t want today). Eventually she determined that her white sailor suit and jeans was the best she could do, grabbed her faithful boater, and hoped nobody at the café would kick her out if she arrived there first and had no money to order with.

It had been easier than she expected to accept Marie’s offer this time. Either she was starting to accept there wasn’t much she could do about food without her help, or it was because she felt such a stronger trust in her after the other day. Faye just hoped she hadn’t crushed that in return at the end.

The smallest of her worries was lifted, at the very least, because Marie was waiting in the café when she got there. It was a friendly-looking place, decorated in whites and blues, half with traditional light wooden tables and half in diner-style booths, and natural light pouring in from the wide windows along the entrance wall. Marie was a little hidden in one of the booths near the back corner, far from the prying eyes of the outside world, but she looked up from her phone and smiled brightly when she saw Faye, and Faye immediately had to pull all of her feelings back together as if she’d just dropped a bag of marbles.

“Sorry for the kinda short notice,” Marie said with a sheepish smile. “I, uh… don’t think I’ll have enough free time before the concert for anything, and – well – it’s nice spending time with you, y’know?”

“You too,” Faye responded truthfully, her hearts feeling lighter than they had in days as she slid into the booth seat opposite, partially out of relief that nothing seemed to be _strange_ between them. “It sounds like a lot of work. The concert.”

“Yeah… it’s worth it, though, I think. Everyone else is really excited, I know that much.” Marie chuckled as she picked up one of the menu sheets from a holder against the wall. “Here. Let me know what you want and I can order for us. According to a reputable source, they do really good smoothies here.”

“Callie?”

“ _May_ be.”

Faye rolled her eyes with a smile, trying to not think too much about prices as she looked through the menu. After not much deliberation, because she wasn’t fussy about what she ate and mostly just wanted something that didn’t taste like fish, she chose a sandwich and smoothie in flavours that probably weren’t the most ideal combination but just things she wanted to try. Marie made no comment on her choice, making a short list on her phone to remember and briefly putting her facemask back on as she went to order their food – she had her hair in a ponytail again, Faye noticed, her agent cap lying against her bag in the corner of the booth.

She returned a few minutes later with their tray of food; Marie had some different kind of sandwich Faye couldn’t put a name to from the outside alone and a mug of something that was giving off steam, probably tea. They talked a little while they ate, easily falling back into the comfortable chatter like when they were at the lake, where just listening to Marie talk set in a sense of ease, as if everything else in the world had faded away for now, to be worried about later.

“Oh, actually, I did need to ask you something,” Marie said, cupping her half-empty mug in her hands.

“Hmm?” Faye murmured in response, mid-sip from her smoothie. Maybe-Callie was right, these _were_ really good, but Faye didn’t want to rub that in Marie’s face when she was pretty sure she could taste at least two different things she was allergic to in this one.

“I, uh… I don’t really know if it’s your kind of thing,” she started, staring down into her tea as if phrasing her question took up a lot of thought. “But… I have a spare ticket. For the concert. If you’d like to go?” Her ears twitched a little. “Hopefully that doesn’t sound, like, vain or anything, offering you a seat for my own concert, but— y’know.”

Faye just stared at her for a moment, because that was nothing anywhere near the handful of expectations she’d had for a question from Marie. “Uhhh… maybe?” _Were_ concerts her thing? She’d never actually been to one before, outside the madness of splatfest. Was it less cramped when you actually had a defined seat and weren’t just crammed into a plaza with hundreds of other people? It was probably still _loud_ either way, but there was that gay section of Faye’s heart that _did_ kind of want to watch Marie perform… well, and Callie. She would be there too, of course.

“I mean, it’s for the finals too, if you wanted to watch them,” Marie continued hurriedly, as if Faye would need another reason to be persuaded.

She did not need one, but there was one thing poking at her mind about all this. “I mean, sure, but like—was it… for someone else, or…?”

“Oh! No, no. Callie wanted to get a ticket for someone so our manager offered me one too, and – well – I thought of you, I guess.” Marie managed to meet her gaze for a moment, giving a soft smile, before her eyes were back on her drink again. “I don’t know—it’s up to you, I understand if you don’t want to go, concerts are… a lot, sometimes.”

“Yeah… I dunno, sounds like an experience.” Faye shrugged, hoping she didn’t sound too nonchalant about the whole thing. She really did want to go, and if it gave her a headache, well… that was something she would have to deal with afterwards. “I’d love to go, yeah!” She thought she’d have to fake a smile, but it appeared more genuinely than expected.

“Great!” Marie grinned, looking happier than Faye would’ve expected at the prospect of just one more squid in her audience. “I can send it to you later, they’re digital and use barcode scanners, so…” She watched with a slightly sheepish expression as Faye took her shattered-looking phone out and raised an eyebrow. “It’ll… probably still scan if you fill the screen? Worst case scenario there’s a number attached.”

“Well, at least I won’t have to break in,” Faye joked dryly. “… It says when and where it is, right?” Her memory wasn’t always the _greatest_ these days.

“Yep, no worries,” Marie nodded. “I guess I’ll see you there? Sort of?”

It wasn’t long before Marie had to go back to work, wishing Faye a farewell and good luck – and Faye had to try and remember what said good luck was for, quickly getting hit with _oh yeah I’m completely broke that was a thing I have to deal with somehow_ – and after that, Faye was left alone in the corner of the quiet café, the empty plate and mug opposite a lingering reminder Marie had been here. She felt so far away suddenly, despite Faye’s earlier reassurance that things were okay.

Faye couldn’t decide if she was excited for the concert or not, or whether that would sink in once she had more time to realise that was a thing that was actually happening. She really _did_ want to see the performance, but… it was a loud and busy event, and Marie wouldn’t be able to interact with her at all beyond maybe a glance in her direction in the crowd. Once again she found herself thinking about just how small she was, how she was just _one_ person out of so many people who adored Marie and she was in way over her head with this stupid crush. Perhaps she needed to try harder to get over it before she made a fool out of herself again.

At least Marie still appreciated her as a friend. Faye highly doubted she invited her fans to lunch with her. Or sent them messages saying good morning, or offered to help in any way she could, or spoke of things she’d never even told her cousin because she trusted them that much, or held their hand, or smiled so genuinely sweetly any time she said how nice it was to spend time with them…

… What if this _was_ a date?

No. No, no, clearly Marie would have said something about that if it was. They were just friends getting lunch together. Definitely. It would be silly of her to jump to any conclusions.

But oh, how she _wished_. Maybe if she really couldn’t kick this she’d have to talk to Marie about it eventually, and at the very least maybe finally being told no would tear the crush out of her, like ripping off a plaster. Marie had more than enough to think about for now, though, so she didn’t need Faye bothering her with this on top of it. Time always seemed to pass in the blink of an eye; Faye could wait a week, at the very least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rollo finally shows up in a chapter again and it's on his birthday (nov 2nd) it's fate
> 
> Also the café's full title is les beans & hummus which is a name created by my friend kibbulation !! read their Mint Condition series it's rly good
> 
> (Marie literally invites Faye to a place with lesbians in the title) (Faye assumes that it is not a date)


	27. Tunnel Vision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warnings: blood, but like, worse than before

“And _there_ they go! _Boom_! _Kablooie_!”

“The rainmaker is taken down from those bubbles!” Marina’s commentary was a lot more understandable than Pearl’s, but the little squid definitely had the enthusiasm for the job nonetheless. “Bering haven’t increased their lead with this push, but 25 remaining is still a tough score for Mace to beat with only twenty seconds left until overtime!”

A murmur of applause and ‘ooo’s rippled through the audience gathered in the square. Rows of chairs had been set up in front of the lobby, some of which had already gone missing, for people to sit and watch the broadcast. Jake would have preferred to watch from home, but he’d only remembered the last semi-final match was on today when he was near the end of a salmon run shift, and dashed out here to see his friends play. He’d missed a lot of the matches, but they were currently tied with three wins each and the last point being decided by rainmaker on Starfish Mainstage.

Rollo was out here watching too, so Jake had dropped down onto the seat next to his brother, still out of breath after his shift, but with enough energy to give him a kick in the leg so Rollo would actually sit up instead of sliding out of his chair. His team had won their semi-finals matches yesterday, and Rollo had shown Jake the text Marie sent him afterwards; ‘good luck in the finals, I can’t wait to point out all your mistakes on live television’.

Jake didn’t know where Ada and Harper were right now, but Delilah was sat on the other side of her teammate, watching the screen and looking like she didn’t care in the slightest.

“They won’t win,” she stated as if it were fact, her shoulders relaxing a little. “It’s almost overtime and the rainmaker’s on their side of the map, Sadie’s team isn’t good enough to pull off a push that strong.” She almost sounded relieved.

“Hey, they were good enough to get into the top eight,” Rollo said with a shrug.

“Yeah, and they were in _eighth_ ,” Delilah reminded him a little coldly.

Rollo rolled his eyes, throwing his brother an exasperated look that suggested he couldn’t be bothered trying to fight her. Jake, honestly, was a little too afraid to try. Delilah was tall and strong and stubborn and intimidating and he didn’t particularly want to be on her bad side. He turned his attention back to the screen as the overtime horn began to blare over the speakers.

“Mace have the rainmaker now, but they only get one chance and their splatling is down,” Marina observed, which drew a quiet snort of contempt from Delilah. Chance had managed to carry the rainmaker back to the stage, but he couldn’t go much further yet with a hydra splatling guarding the way from the enemy’s snipe. “All Bering have to do now is take out the rainmaker to win.”

“ _But_ their opponents are still going to put up a fight!” Pearl butted in, not trying as hard as Marina to hide her slight favouritism for Eight’s team. “Go underdogs!”

“Oh! The roller is down from the rainmaker blast, but there’s still three more of them to defend—”

“ _Two_ more!” Pearl cheered as the hydra splatling was taken out by a flank; Eight had managed to sneak around and climb the wall to splat them, and was now heading for the next closest threat, a cherry H3. The crowd watching the match erupted with excitement as she managed to dodge aside the bullets and take her out too.

“Eight’s taken two of the opposite team down now, and there’s one last threat to the rainmaker – oh, and she splats Jean too while his attention’s on the goal!” Eight was on an ink-hungry streak now, darting back into her ink and heading for the opponent’s base to help the push along. Mercedes had jumped back in to her team, and Mace were heading forward united in their last effort to overtake Bering’s lead. The rainmaker counter slid along in their favour at the top of the screen as Chance followed along the trail Arty was making for him into the pit. “Is this going to be what they need to push to the rainmaker far enough?”

“Artemis breaking out the ink armour! They’re goin’ all or nothing now!” Pearl was on the cusp of yelling, and Jake wondered if she was sat as near to the edge of her seat as he was at the close match.

“Still, that won’t do much against Jet. They have to take out her hydra splatling or they won’t be able to get anywhere near to the base – and it looks like Eight is on her way to do just that!” A marker on the overhead map showed the octoling hopping from the snipe to a grate to sneak around the side again. She threw a bomb as she dropped from a platform, splatting the hydra again and taking out the cherry H3 in the blast as her teammates battled the remaining two. “There’s only the luna blaster left now, and he’s finally managed to take Eight down – but that’s not going to be enough to stop the rainmaker!”

The whistle blew as Chance shot up the slope towards the goal and their counter ticked down to 24. The ‘GAME’ animation played across the screen, and the audience went wild, cheering both their support and amazement at that last incredible push.

“That was the raddest match I have ever _seen_!” Pearl hollered into her mic. “Mace took it at the last second like _total_ _epic_ _gamers_!”

Marina chuckled at her co-commentator’s choice of words. “Both teams have played incredibly well for this whole matchup, but it looks like Mace are our other finalists! They’ll be facing off with Geode in the finals!”

Jake nudged his brother in the arm. “You get to fight Chance,” he grinned cheekily, knowing full well Rollo had asked him on a date after the finals. Rollo had made the foolish mistake of thinking his brother wouldn’t poke fun at him for it.

“Yeah, yeah.” Rollo nudged him back more harshly.

Jake dared glance at Delilah, but she was still scowling at the screen above the lobby, even though it was now back to Pearl and Marina in their studio as they reminded everyone that the finals were in 4 days and continued to build more hype for the concert.

A few minutes passed, and when Team Mace exited the lobby after their match, a small crowd gathered around to give brief congratulations. Delilah remained in her seat, her hands in the pockets of her flannel hoodie, until the group began to disperse. She sighed, easily pushing herself back to standing without using her arms. “I guess it would be _rude_ to not acknowledge to our future opponents.”

“Dee,” Rollo gave her a _look_ , a hint of warning in his voice that Jake rarely heard. Delilah ignored him, escaping the aisle of chairs they’d been sat in. Rollo sighed. “Oh boy.”

“I take it you don’t have high hopes for this conversation,” Jake muttered.

“Nope!” Rollo sprung up from his chair. “Looks like it’s time to be damage control.”

Jake scrambled after his brother as he hurried to catch up, not really sure if he _wanted_ to bear witness to whatever was going to unfold, but also not wanting to be left on his own while it did. He wished Callie were here – she always seemed to have this power to lighten the mood, no matter how terrible things were – but she was too busy to meet up these days. Almost everyone Jake knew was busier recently because of the tournament, and he felt strangely out of place because of it. Harper and Eight were in the finals as well as his brother, and he’d even tried messaging Miles to see what he was up to at one point, but the young octoling hadn’t responded.

They reached Delilah a few moments before she arrived at the outskirts of the lobby, where Mercedes had definitely noticed her and definitely wished she hadn’t. Chance took a step towards her as if he were ready to protect his close friend; Eight nearby gave Delilah a nervous look but did the same, her hair twitching as if she expected a fight.

“Hey, Sadie,” Delilah spoke with a lack of the familiarity suggested in her words. “Congrats on winning the semis. I guess we’ll see you in the finals, yeah?”

Mercedes looked at her for a long moment, her brow furrowed and a cold look in her eyes, but still a hint of confusion, as if she’d expected a lot more hostility than she was getting. Her plus-shaped pupils remained fixed on Delilah for a long moment, untrusting, before she finally spoke. “… Thanks. See you there, Lyla.”

The nickname made Delilah’s blank expression flicker into a scowl for a moment. Was that not what she wanted, a friendly exchange? She regarded Mercedes’ other teammates with little more than a glance, but it lingered on Eight for just a moment longer. “Well done on finding your final teammate,” Delilah muttered as she turned to leave, making sure her voice was just loud enough for the opposing team captain to hear. “She might have carried you this far, but she can’t win the tournament for you.”

“Hey!” Arty called out, sounding a little offended by her implication. “What’s that supposed to—” He stopped as Mercedes held a hand out towards him, warning him not to react.

“Don’t. She’s just trying to wind us up.” She kept her eyes on Delilah as she vanished into the crowd.

Jake watched her go, exchanging a look with his brother that asked silently if they should follow her. Rollo just sighed. “Sorry,” he said eventually, addressing the other team. “I’ll, uh… good luck. See you in the finals.” He gave a respectful nod, a million times better than whatever Delilah just did, and headed off after his captain.

That just left Jake, here and alone and wondering if it would be rude of him to beg his best friend to spend her lunch break with him just so he wouldn’t have to be anywhere near the tense atmosphere of the two finals teams. Eight met his gaze for a moment, and he gave a helpless shrug; she looked a little relieved in return, knowing he didn’t agree with Delilah’s rude statement.

“Good luck,” he echoed, finally turning to go and catch up to his brother so at the very least he wouldn’t just be disappearing off without a word. Perhaps he could go back to do some more salmon run shifts. The salmonids had the scariness of a pile of fuzzy sea bunnies suddenly.

The finals were sure going to be… interesting.

* * *

Faye was starting to get sick of fish, and the greater amount of effort it took to prepare it than just stuffing slices of bread in the toaster, but at least it was food. After five days, her supply was starting to wear thin, though, and it wouldn’t be long before she was out of food again. With no other ideas, she’d resigned to the fate that she was probably going to have to try and persuade Sheldon to let her have a weapon that she’d pay him back for later, and hope she could handle enough matches of turf war to at least get money for that and food. Hopefully if she did end up passing out during a match again they wouldn’t ban her from the lobby like Grizzco. At the very least, since her level had been reset from the relocation, she’d probably get put up against very inexperienced players at first, and it was unlikely they’d even be able to splat her.

She could go and beg Sheldon tomorrow. The square was packed today, thanks to the semi-finals, and she didn’t want to deal with that. Faye had spent a good section of the day fiddling with the aerial on the captain’s ancient television to see if it could pick up a signal from Inkopolis, and she’d managed to catch Eight’s match in a slightly flicker-glitchy mode, but it was enough to decipher the results, even if Pearl and Marina’s voices did go a little strange and wobbly at times. Faye made a mental note to congratulate Eight next time she saw them, if she did before the finals – and she’d actually get to watch the match in person, thanks to Marie. Faye was extra glad she’d taken the offer now.

Of course, Marie had been almost the only thing on her brain for the past day, because she was stupid and gay and kept _wondering_ but forced herself to wait. There was a part of her that knew she was just setting herself up for disappointment, and she would have to be okay with that because that was just how things were, and honestly she had absolutely no idea what she was going to say in the first place. Perhaps she would conveniently gain some kind of magical charisma, despite never having that before.

Yeah… she definitely needed this extra time to think things over.

Faye sighed as she placed her plate down next to the sink basin with a quiet _clink_. She hadn’t washed up in a few days, and it was starting to smell very _fishy_ in the building, and she was not a fan of it. It was probably time to force herself to do this chore before it got even worse. Just having to eat fish every day was bad enough; she didn’t want to be surrounded by the stench for the rest of time.

As she reached to turn on the rusty old tap, her ears twitched, and she paused.

_It’s probably nothing._

A second later, though, she heard it again; a strange scrabbling noise from somewhere outside. That was unusual. Occasionally the odd bird would land on the giant building this cabin had been built on, far above the valley, but there was nothing else out here – and whatever she was hearing, it didn’t sound like a bird. It was too constant.

Like something was… climbing.

Her first thought was _octarians_. They were the only other things that had existed in this valley, but that wouldn’t make sense; Octavio was gone, and all the octolings were on the surface now – unless the octarian ruler himself was trying to scale a giant building, in which case Faye had absolutely no qualms about kicking him in the face and sending him back to the pit below. Splat.

There was definitely _something_ outside, though, and it didn’t sound like a large octopus. Instantly on high alert, Faye backed away from the sink, giving her phone on the nightstand a long look before plucking it from its cable and taking it with her to the window. The glass was old and a little foggy in most patches, but she could still see well enough what was happening out there.

At first, she could see nothing, and wondered if she was just imagining it, but she could still hear the scrabbling noise. Perhaps it was just some kind of wild animal, perhaps it was a bird after all and it was just scraping off the plants that grew up the building’s sides to build a nest. That seemed like a reasonable assumption.

Then something appeared over one of the crumbling walls surrounding the roof, and anything ‘reasonable’ was completely out.

Faye immediately ducked down as out of sight as she could get while still being able to peer over the top of the window frame. _Something_ was climbing up, heaving itself up onto the roof of the building, something bluey-green and covered in fins and scars. It vaguely resembled some kind of shark, maybe, but more importantly—

_What the fuck IS that thing and what is it doing HERE!?_

Faye had never seen anything like it before. She didn’t know what it was or if it was some kind of strange hallucination or perhaps she was still asleep, actually, and just having a very vivid dream – no, okay, she pinched her arm and could feel it, definitely awake. The strange monster looked a little out of breath after climbing all the way up this building, and even through the fuzzy glass Faye could see it had a _lot_ of sharp-looking teeth as it stood there panting.

Whatever that was, it probably wasn’t friendly. Faye still felt dazed. She’d been fighting the octarians for years, and she’d never seen anything like _this_ before.

The monster lifted its head, sniffing at the air. A faint grumbling sound came from its throat like a growl, and Faye felt it through the floor despite how far away it was. It walked, towards the cabin, towards _her_.

This seemed not good. This was very not good.

Faye did not expect to have to deal with some strange giant monster thing today. That had not been in her schedule. She still wasn’t entirely certain that she wasn’t having some kind of strange hallucination. A strange hallucination brought on by an overpowering smell of fish. Perhaps it was finally starting to drive her mad. A fish-based fever dream creating a fish monster.

Maybe the smell of fish was what had lured it here. Faye sank down further against the wall. _Guess I’ll remember to do the washing up next time,_ she thought in a humorous effort to calm herself down, watching her hands shake as she tried to look at the screen of her phone. She needed… backup, or something, if only to make a distraction so maybe she could escape from here.

Her gaze rested briefly on Marie’s name in her contacts, but no, she was busy anyway and Faye didn’t particularly want to expose her to whatever this thing was.

That left Eight as one of her very limited options. Eight was brave and fast and _probably_ not in a match right now since the semi-finals were over.

Faye heard the thing walking directly behind the wall, sniffing at the window, and she remained as still as a statue and held her breath until it decided to pass on.

_Oh cod oh cod oh cod._ She hadn’t felt so terrified in years.

At least against the octarians, or Octavio, she actually stood a chance in a fight. She didn’t know _what_ that thing was or what is was capable of, but she got the feeling it wouldn’t care if it got splashed with a little ink.

She turned her phone volume down as low as it would go as she tapped on the call button for Eight with shaking hands, praying they would pick up fast as she held the phone awkwardly against her left ear with her non-dominant hand. The shattered screen of her phone felt weird against her cheek, and the audio jittered horribly as her phone struggled to function as a phone.

The near-silent tone kept droning on for a painfully long time as Faye heard step after step outside. _Come on, Eight, please…_

Finally, right as Faye was sure it would click through to voice mail, the dooming noise stopped. “Three?” Eight asked quietly, like they weren’t sure how to answer a call and definitely hadn’t been expecting to get one, not from her.

“H-hey, Eight,” Faye responded, her voice coming out as little more than a whispering breath as she fought to get it to actually work. “I’m at the cabin, there’s _something_ _here_ , it—”

A horrific crashing sound overtook all her thoughts.

Faye couldn’t stifle her scream of fear as shattered glass fell around her.

Her phone slipped out of her hand, clattering against the wooden floor.

She was up, moving, getting _away_ from here and not caring as a shard of glass stabbed her hand when she pushed herself up. That thing, that _monster_ , was climbing through the window, hopping a little to try and get past the protruding spikes of glass that still remained against the frame like a last defence. They didn’t do anything other than scrape at its scales.

Then it saw her, cowering against the wall and trying to remain as still as possible in the hopes she wouldn’t be noticed and could escape. It was not fooled at all.

It let out an excited yowl and lunged towards her.

Faye did not stop to scream this time, darting away as fast as she could manage.

Octarians weren’t always easy to avoid, but they mostly stood in one place and shot at her, or they were an octoling with a weapon who she could outmanoeuvre and shoot back at. Faye had no idea how to deal with a giant monster with teeth and claws when her gun was half way across the room and probably wouldn’t do much against it.

The monster was big and clumsy but fast, twisting and snapping and trying to catch her and definitely not friendly. Its claws scored at the floor and furniture and its tail bashed noisily against the wall and it was _strong and dangerous_.

Definitely not something she would be able to escape from if it caught her.

Faye dodged and weaved and sent herself flying into squid form to try and evade it and managed to confuse it briefly by throwing a chair in its direction before she almost got an entire table flung at her.

There was nothing she could do, nothing she could use to defend herself, her hearts were pounding and her head was screaming at her and she had to get out of here quickly before her stamina ran out.

The table had fallen near the window. That was her best escape route right now.

Faye dodged past the thing and jumped, using one of the table’s upturned legs as a stepping stool to help vault herself through the smashed window. She could hear that thing behind her, feel its stinking breath as it chased what she could only assume was its prey.

The shards of glass didn’t catch her on the way out. Its claws did.

A searing pain shot through her right leg as the monster lashed out in a final attempt to catch her. Her initial landing was thwarted completely as she was sent crashing to the hard earthy ground outside with a furious ringing in her ears.

Distantly but not, more of the scrabbling noises as the monster began to make its climb out of the window.

_Get up._

_Get UP._

_GET UP YOU HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE RIGHT NOW!!!_

The fear and doom was enough to give her the energy to pull herself back up, trying as hard as she could to ignore the agonising pain in her leg and not daring to look. Faye groaned and stifled her yell of terror and pain as she ran, slowly and unevenly and aware that thing would be out and after her soon, towards the grate.

_It can’t get through there. It shouldn’t be able to. If it has an ink form too I’m dead._

The creature roared and footsteps thundered towards her, shaking the ground.

There was no time to open the grate and climb through. Faye clenched her teeth and forced her body to _change change CHANGE INTO A SQUID_.

It was more ink than anything, what she could form into, but she dove and slid through the metal grating.

She reformed a second later and screamed as she fell unceremoniously to the ground, hearing the sound of blood splattering against the pipe as transforming tore her injury open further.

Faye couldn’t move, frozen by fear and agony and gasping for breath. The grate rattled furiously as the creature hit and clawed at it, snarling. It couldn’t get through. Even if it could rip the grate off its hinges it would have trouble fitting through the gap, and the tunnel here might be too small for it to squeeze into.

If it did, though, she’d still be in danger right beneath it.

She had to go. She had to _move_.

Faye could barely feel anything except the pulsing pain in her head and leg as she forced herself to climb up again, leaning heavily against the wall as she made her way along the pipe. Despite the warping technology it was made with, it still felt like forever until she saw a slight glimmer of light – moonlight – at the other end. She couldn’t hear the monster anymore. It might have left.

There was no way it was safe for her to go back, though.

A single dry huffed laugh forced itself out of her body. This was stupid. This was all stupid! None of this could be real, no matter how real the pain felt. She was sick or injured or something and had fallen asleep to a weird fever dream with a splinter jabbing into her leg, or something.

And there was an underlying thought of _why, why, why is this happening why now why me why does it always have to be ME?_

There was no way she could transform again to get through the other grate. She didn’t even really know why she was doing it in the first place, but this end was a sewer and she couldn’t stay down here, not where someone could see her, she had to get out and away from here. Faye unlatched the grate from the inside and pushed it up, the moon blurring in the sky above her as she pulled herself out and let it fall shut behind her.

_Go. Go somewhere._ Where? Where was she even supposed to go?

She couldn’t go anywhere. She didn’t have any other home. The cabin was the only place she was safe – and now it wasn’t safe there either.

Because as soon as everything was fine and dandy the world had to suddenly spawn some kind of heinous monster, just for her.

That sounded about right.

All Faye knew was she had to get _away_. Her head throbbed painfully and she pressed a hand against her temple as she tried to walk. As she finally dared glance down, she realised she couldn’t even see what the damage was – it was dark, shredded threads of her jeans stuck out on her right leg, it definitely looked a _much_ darker blue than the left one.

The adrenaline that had kept her going until now was gone. Faye thought she saw someone in the distance, maybe, but the world span in front of her and then the ground was coming at her from above, all she could hear was the incessant ringing, and everything was the furthest from okay it could possibly be.

* * *

Eight was sure having a day today. The semi-finals match had been rough, and they’d just barely managed to push through to win, and Delilah’s words had been haunting her ever since – she didn’t think they were true, at all, her teammates were amazing and talented and they’d all done 1v1s in training before so she _knew_ they weren’t leaning on her, and Delilah was just trying to unnerve them before their match – but it was _working_.

At least she knew nobody else from Geode shared the hostility. Four was polite enough to them, and Harper had sent her a whole barrage of messages after watching the match congratulating her and talking about how she couldn’t wait for finals and it was going to be so epic and cool and various other words Eight couldn’t tell if she didn’t know or were just misspelt, and the _Squid_ _Sisters_ were going to be watching and commentating their match and wasn’t that _amazing_? Eight didn’t have any contact with Ada and hadn’t heard or seen anything of her since the results, but… she’d seemed nice the last time they met, too, so it really was just Delilah who hated them. That felt… manageable, even if Delilah was very tall and intimidating and strong. Eight decided she would feel accomplished in the finals if she managed to splat her even once.

It was, in theory, an evening of relaxation for her team, as they all tried to focus on the match ahead and not the person leading the team it was against. They’d made it into, at the very least, second place in the tournament, and that was enough of an accomplishment all on its own! Their celebration was held by watching movies and lazing around in the living room for once, winding down after all the madness, and Eight only noticed her phone was ringing due to everyone else’s confusion at the unfamiliar ringtone; Eight hardly ever got _calls_ from anyone, and on the rare occasion she did it was usually Marina or Pearl, and therefore she’d have to step out of the room to take it just to make sure none of her teammates overheard and recognised their voices.

She hadn’t expected a call from Three, never had one before, didn’t actually know Three’s phone was capable of doing that, but at least past experiences meant she was able to slip away easily to answer it.

Immediately Eight knew something was wrong, just from the quietness of her voice, and then she _absolutely_ knew something was wrong.

She’d never heard Three scream before.

After being given nothing but crashing sounds, Eight decided that was enough proof that Three was in danger – from what? She had no idea – and hung up, only briefly poking her head back in the doorway of the lounge to say “I have to go, it’s important” and running to get her shoes. Did she need anything else? She couldn’t take her octoshot out in the city, that was illegal, but Three had said she was in the cabin and there was at least _one_ weapon there if absolutely necessary – but there were still two of them, and ugh, what was even _happening_ to Three? The octarians were supposed to be gone now, and it wasn’t like anyone else could get to the cabin. Maybe someone had followed her there from the city, but why would anyone do that?

Memories of the last time she’d seen Three get attacked came rushing back to her, and Eight realised she knew at least one person who would be willing to go that far.

“Eight, what’s wrong, is everything okay?” Chance asked as he hurried to find her in the entranceway.

“I do not know. I have to find out. I will be okay,” she added as she pulled on her second shoe and opened the door, knowing that was probably the most reassuring thing she could say to him.

“Are you sure? Do you want someone to go with you?”

“No.” That she knew for certain. She couldn’t let anyone else know about the New Squidbeak Splatoon, especially not her closest friends. “I will send a message if I need help.”

“Okay.” Chance didn’t seem entirely convinced, but he wasn’t going to stop her, and that was the main thing. “I hope everything’s okay.”

Then Eight was gone, sprinting across the sunset-covered city and hoping it wouldn’t have been a better decision to find something else to bring with her. She could probably take Margin in a fight, but not if she was armed and Eight wasn’t. If that was the case, it might already be too late for Three.

What was happening, and why was it happening _now_?

The sky was dark by the time she reached the plaza, darting for the nearby alley where she knew well the entrance to Octo Valley was.

And to her surprise, Three was there – and Eight was just in time to watch her collapse limply to the ground.

“ _Three_!” she wailed, hoping there was nobody nearby to overhear her shout. She raced forward, far too late to catch her as she fell, dropping to her knees next to her instead and feeling the concrete scrape painfully against her as she did.

Three had collapsed onto her side, and a quiet moan escaped her when Eight placed a hand on her shoulder. It looked like she tried to open her eyes, just a little, but only the whites could be seen. “Ei… Eight, don’t… go in there…”

“Three, what happened to you?” she asked quietly, trying to work out why Three had collapsed or whether it was just her old injuries acting up again, but when she looked in the direction of the grate, she noticed the trail of blood staining the ground.

Her leg. There was some kind of wound there, her jeans were stained dark blue and they’d been torn open on the lower half of her right leg – it almost looked like _claw_ marks.

So, probably not an angry octoling.

“It’s… s-still there…” Three groaned. Her hand twitched as she fluttered in and out of consciousness. “Eight…”

“What is?” Eight’s words were met with nothing. She didn’t know what had happened, what thing Three was trying to warn her of, but whatever it was… it didn’t matter right now, Three was badly injured and needed help.

Eight didn’t know how to help her. She, at the very least, knew there was no help here in this alley.

“I can help you get up,” she said as she tried to encourage her friend to stand, but Three just moaned in pain again; she was far too out of it to go anywhere on her own, and her leg was injured.

Okay, new plan. Eight put her arms under her friend to lift her, trying not to disturb her injured leg too much. Standing up again with the extra weight was a little difficult, but while Three was _heavy_ she was still rather light for an inkling. Three didn’t react to being carried, completely limp in Eight’s arms as her head fell against her shoulder, and Eight felt a pulse of fear run through her body.

Three was strong. She would be okay. She had to be.

She would still need help, though, and Eight didn’t know what to do. She could take her back to the house, maybe, but what good would that do? Would Mercedes or Chance or Arty know how to help her, or would it be a waste of potentially precious time walking all the way there?

There was only one other option. It was just as far, maybe more, but Eight was a lot more convinced it would lead to help.

She walked as fast as she could without endangering her friend, glad for the cover of night and the lack of people around at this time of day as she carried an unconscious Three across the city. The inkling seemed to stir once or twice, but not for long, only to let out the occasional groan or wheeze out Eight’s name, and it was impossible to tell if that was some kind of warning or a plea for help.

After a painfully long time, she reached the paved hills, the unnecessarily long driveway that was lit by garden lanterns on each side even though a few of the bulbs needed changing, the massive front door with a doorbell she couldn’t reach with an unconscious inkling in her arms. Eight, stressed and panicked and not wanting to waste a second, kicked at the door with as much force as she hoped wouldn’t damage it in any way, and yelled as loud as she could. “ _Marina_!”

She really, really hoped there was someone home. There had to be. There were lights on.

A wave of relief ran through her when she saw the camera in the corner of the porch move a little, someone inside checking to see what was happening at the front door and why whoever was here hadn’t just rang the bell like a normal not-carrying-an-injured-friend person. Then there were sounds inside, a flash of movement through the frosted stained-glass window as someone turned to ink form to bypass half the stairs by hopping through the rail, and the locks on the door rattled urgently as they were opened.

And then there was Marina, looking at her with horror. “Eight, what _happened_!?” she demanded, but didn’t waste time, opening the door wider and beckoning her to come inside.

“I-I do not—I don’t know,” Eight said shakily, surprised to suddenly feel tears running down her face. She sniffed. “Three— Marina, please, help her!”

“Okay, okay, everything will be okay,” Marina assured her quickly, giving her shoulder a quick pat before moving her arms next to Eight’s, lifting Three into her own arms instead. Three let out a quiet groan but said nothing, and Eight couldn’t tell if she even realised what was happening. “Oh, cod, where should—Eight, do you know the extent of her injuries?”

“Her leg. And—and I do not know what else.” She heard a drop of blood fall onto the carpet, but that seemed to be the extent of the bleeding now. In the light, she could see that one of Three’s hands had a lot of blood on it too, but any injuries she could see were the ones on the outside. “I don’t know, I’m sorry…!”

“Okay, I’ll just—okay, alright, I’ll take her to the spare room I guess. Come on.” She began to make her way, carefully, up the stairs, stopping only briefly to shout “ _Pearl_!” as she ascended. Eight followed worriedly after her.

Pearl appeared at the top of the staircase, her eyes flying wide as she saw what was heading her way. “What the fuck happened!?” she exclaimed.

“I don’t know and neither does Eight, but Faye’s hurt, so could you let me pass and grab the first aid kit, please?”

Pearl did as Marina asked, stepping aside, looking a little stunned for a moment as she watched her pass, and as soon as the way was clear she floored it down the stairs to the kitchen.

Eight tried to be helpful explaining everything she knew as she followed Marina to the spare room, watching her place Three down on the bed which would probably not remain a pale white colour for long. Everything Eight knew was not a lot.

“Faye, can you hear me?” Marina asked in a serious tone, picking up Three’s non-injured hand to check the pulse in her wrist. When Three didn’t respond, Marina put a hand to her face instead, checking her temperature, brushing a thumb near her eyes and trying to encourage her to open them. “Faye. Agent 3. Can you hear my voice?”

Three just groaned again, her brow twitching a little at the contact.

“Hmm.” Marina frowned, turning her attention to Three’s injured leg instead, hovering a hand over it but not touching. “I don’t understand what could’ve happened to her. Did she get caught on something…?”

“It sounded like something attacked her,” Eight explained, about to wipe her face with her sleeve before realising it was stained with blood and switching to use the other one instead. “She—she just said there was something _in there_ when I found her.”

“If that’s true, I have no clue what did this.” Marina chewed her lip for a moment as she inspected the injury. “It looks bad, though. Maybe we should take her to the hospital.”

“No!” That singular word seemed to shoot some life back into Three, but definitely not for a good reason. A spasm seemed to run through her and her words came out slurred, her eyes white still when she tried to open them. “N-no, no, don’t take me there, she’ll _find_ _me—_!”

“Okay—okay, alright, I won’t. You’re safe here.” Marina picked up her hand again in an effort to calm her down so she wouldn’t make her injuries worse, and Three thrashed for a moment longer before finally settling again – although if she’d actually been calmed or just lost consciousness once more, it was hard to tell. Placing her arm gently back down against the bed, Marina exchanged a glance with Eight, silently asking if she knew what the inkling meant, who ‘she’ might be, but all Eight could do was shrug and shake her head.

_Margin_ …? Eight didn’t understand. That wouldn’t make sense. Margin wouldn’t be able to find her at a hospital. Who else could Three be trying to avoid?

Pearl burst back into the room soon after that, slightly out of breath and hauling a rather large metal box that rattled with her every movement. “Here—got it—first aid,” she said between gasps, holding it out to Marina.

“Thanks, sweetie,” Marina nodded with a forced smile in the serious situation as she carefully took the box from her girlfriend’s hands. “Okay, I’ll… see what I can do, I guess, but if it looks too serious I’m going to have to call for someone, at the very least.”

Eight finally allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief. Marina knew what she was doing, knew what she could handle, knew if Three’s injuries were deadly or not. She should be safe now.

“Eight, you wanna stick around?” Pearl offered, giving her an uncharacteristically soft look. “I know you’re gonna be all worried an’ stuff if we send you away, plus it’s dark out. Rina hardly ever sleeps in her own bed, I’m sure she won’t mind if you use it.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Marina added as she rummaged through the first-aid. “Pearlie, see if you can find a spare pair of my pyjamas, yours will be too small for her.”

Apparently it was more of a decision than an offer, but Eight was grateful nonetheless. She didn’t feel like she could leave Three, not now. “Thank you.”

“C’mon, kiddo, let’s leave Marina to do her thing.” Pearl tugged at Eight’s less-bloody sleeve, guiding her out of the room so she wouldn’t have to watch. “Yell if you need us, babe!” she called back.

“Will do!”

As she waited awkwardly in the hallway for Pearl to return with something clean for her to change into so she didn’t put any more blood on the mansion by accident, Eight took out her phone, trying not to smear it as she typed a message into her team’s group chat, letting them know everything was fine (a slight exaggeration) and that she was going to be away for the night. If they asked too much when she got back, perhaps she could just say that a family emergency came up. Three was like family to her, after all.

Eight didn’t know what could’ve happened to her, but she knew she’d be safe with Marina. Still, she had a feeling this was going to continue to be a long and stressful night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The encounter we all knew was going to happen at some point: Faye and Squidgy become friends :] (sometimes friends try to eat each other)
> 
> Also there was a cameo this chapter of Team Bering who belong to PeppermintTides !!


	28. Source of Comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warnings: mentions of blood/injury, illness, and vague suicidal ideation

Everything was a jumble of aches and nausea, of feeling off and like nothing around her seemed familiar, and when Faye started to wake up she wished the universe would knock her out again. She didn’t know why she felt so awful, and though the headache was relatively normal she didn’t usually feel _sick_ on top of it, or at least not to this degree. Wherever she’d fallen asleep, it felt way too comfortable to be the rusty-spring mattress from the cabin.

She moved her leg, and a stab of pain so strong it dragged a gasp out of her was enough to remind her of everything.

Or at least, everything she could actually recall; the monster, escaping by the skin of her teeth, and then everything after that was a little fuzzy. She was pretty sure Eight had been there, that they’d carried her somewhere, and had Marina actually been involved somehow or was that just part of her dream? Opening her eyes – _ugghhh my head_ – thrust her into a completely unfamiliar room, and while she was still in her clothes (minus shoes), a blanket had been placed over her at some point.

So where…?

Faye fought to push herself up into sitting, but that immediately made the world spin violently around her, so she gave up, flopping back onto her side. This room, or what she could see of it from this angle, looked fancy enough to be a hotel room, but the lack of various hotel features proved it was definitely just a room in someone’s house. The decorated door creaked a little as it was gently pushed further open, and an octoling head poked in to look at her.

“Oh! You’re awake.” Marina, who was not a dream apparition after all, gave a relieved-looking smile and stepped into the room properly. “How are you feeling?”

“Eugh.” That was as good of an explanation as she could give, really. Her throat felt dry. “Where… is this…?”

“Pearl’s house. Eight brought you here last night, do you remember that? Wait—no, don’t answer yet, hold on, I’ll get you some water.” She vanished as quickly as she’d appeared, leaving Faye watching after her blankly as her muddled brain struggled to process everything happening.

Faye wanted to use this extra time to close her eyes and maybe fall back asleep so she didn’t have to spend as much time conscious, but she didn’t want Marina fretting over her when she returned. She made another more successful attempt to push herself up, pressing a hand to her head when the world started turning again, and tried to ignore the stinging in her leg as she waited for things to steady out.

She could finally sort of see the damage now, but the right leg of her jeans had been cut off at the knee (probably Marina’s doing) and everything below that was covered by bandages, some of which were dotted with blue. Faye experimentally placed a hand against the side of her leg and winced, but at least the dressing didn’t change colour any further, so the bleeding had stopped.

Marina returned a few minutes later with an incredibly large glass that was two-thirds full, and Faye really hoped she didn’t expect her to drink the whole thing right here and now. She nodded in the vague direction of Faye’s injured leg. “It looked nasty, but I didn’t want to try doing stitches, and the bleeding mostly stopped on its own, so you should be alright. You did lose a lot of blood, though,” Marina told her as she placed the glass down on a coaster on the bedside table. “I called Dr Hammond out and she’ll be able to visit in a few hours and double-check.”

“Oh… thanks.” Faye grimaced. “I, uh… have no money and no insurance though, so…” That wasn’t technically true – she was still on her mother’s insurance plan, officially, unless she’d cut her off and Faye just didn’t know about it, but she _would_ find out if something happened to her.

Marina shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. She’s Pearl’s family doctor, Pearlie is more than able to deal with a small medical fee in an emergency.” Faye didn’t dare ask how much ‘small’ was, because she had the feeling it would sound like the absolute opposite of small to her. “Is… that why you didn’t want to be taken to the hospital?”

Faye gave Marina a slightly confused look, because she couldn’t remember actually saying anything last night. “Uh… sure. Yeah.” Hopefully she hadn’t said anything _too_ embarrassing. That sure was a reason she wouldn’t want to go, but it would also paint a giant arrow in the sky towards her for her mother to see.

Marina didn’t pry into her noncommittal answer, fortunately, just sat down on a folding chair that had been brought into the room at some point – which meant she didn’t plan on leaving Faye alone just yet. “Can I ask what happened last night? Were you attacked?”

“Something like that.” Faye still wasn’t entirely convinced it hadn’t just been a strange nightmare, but her messed-up leg proved otherwise. Her hand still stung a little, too, from where broken glass had stabbed her, but that injury had been treated with a large square plaster, evidently less serious. “There was just… this giant _thing_.” She waved her arms for emphasis, wincing when that made her nausea worse. “Like, it was _massive_ and had 4 legs and a fish tail and _teeth_ and _claws_ and—I don’t know what it was, but I am _pretty_ _sure_ it wanted to eat me.”

It was obvious from Marina’s expression that she didn’t understand Faye’s explanation – or rather, she understood it, but didn’t believe what she was saying. Which was fair, because Faye wouldn’t believe it if she hadn’t seen it either. “Are you… sure?”

“ _Pretty_ sure. I think. Probably.” Faye pressed a hand to her head again as she was hit by another throb of pain. “I have _claw_ marks on my leg, don’t I? It caught me when I tried to escape out the window.” That was the last clear memory she had from last night.

“Well, that’s sure what it looked like…” Marina shot a rather intense look at the bandages on Faye’s leg, like she was only just now realising what could have caused the injury. “I trust you, but… you were pretty out of it when Eight brought you here. Maybe someone should check the place.”

“No! No, no, don’t send anyone there, it might still be lurking around.” Faye shook her head, instantly regretting the motion. “I can—I’ll check it out. When I can walk.” Hopefully that thing wouldn’t leave the valley. She didn’t even know how it had gotten in there in the first place. Had something like that been living in the shadowy pit all this time?

“Okay, but don’t push yourself,” Marina warned. “And don’t go alone.”

She left the room again shortly after that, promising to bring some food when she next returned and disappearing before Faye could protest. There was the usual discomfort at having people _help_ her, but Faye also wasn’t sure if any food she ate would actually stay down. At the very least, she needed to drink something, though, and hopefully that would stop her feeling so awful. Her hands were shaky but steady enough to pick up the glass of water Marina had left for her.

It wasn’t long before there was another visitor to the room, this time Eight, who Faye was a little surprised to see here. “You are awake!” they cheered quietly, pushing the folding chair a little closer to the bed before sitting in it.

“I don’t feel like it,” Faye joked dryly, but managed a smile all the same. “Sorry if I scared you last night.”

“It was not your fault.” Eight shook their head, and their hair twitched in a calm way. “I am glad you called me.”

Eight didn’t leave after that, but Faye didn’t mind their presence; it was rather reminiscent of when Eight had first moved to the surface and the two of them lived in the old cabin, where Eight would entertain themself for most of the day while Faye slept through the recovery for her injury, and for the most part they only spoke if Faye started a conversation. She couldn’t sleep right now, despite how exhausted she was, so that was what she did instead – and remembered to congratulate Eight on their victory yesterday, telling them to kick Four’s ass in the finals.

The finals… she was supposed to be going to watch them, but she didn’t even have her phone here. Hopefully it was still lying somewhere in the cabin and not in the stomach of a giant monster.

Would she even be up to going to a concert in three days? Unlikely. She felt like she should message Marie, but she couldn’t do _that_ without her phone either. She could get someone else to send a message, but she didn’t want Marie to know she’d been attacked by some kind of freaky beast, and she didn’t trust anyone who might potentially have contact with her to leave that part out.

That was a problem for later. She had a few days. Hopefully Marie was busy enough to not question Faye’s silence.

Hopefully she wouldn’t go looking for her at the cabin if she thought something was wrong.

… Okay, if she couldn’t find her phone when she checked the place, she would have to get someone else to message her.

Where was she even supposed to go now? Apparently the cabin wasn’t safe anymore, but she didn’t have anywhere else to stay. That had been her _home_ for almost a year now.

Everything really had to be taken from her, didn’t it?

Those thoughts kept her from getting more rest before the doctor Marina had mentioned showed up. She seemed reasonable and friendly, an older-looking shark lady, but Faye found she still couldn’t make eye contact with her and just let her do her thing. Apparently the wounds didn’t look infected, so Marina had done a good job of cleaning them last night, which Dr Hammond commended her on – seeing them uncovered for the first time still made Faye grimace a little, but she reminded herself that she was going to get some pretty cool-looking scars from this, so that was okay, maybe.

The doctor left with the recommendation of rest and fluid, as well as vitamin C and food containing iron – which Faye had to try not to laugh dryly at, because it wasn’t like she could buy food in the first place, and until she recovered from this she was _extra_ screwed because she wouldn’t even be able to play turf war to use her original plan.

Then Faye was left alone with her spiralling thoughts and an offer (or order) from Pearl that she could stay here another night, and Faye would have felt a million times worse if the offer hadn’t also been extended to Eight. The young octoling seemed eager to stick around, even if they would have to leave for a few hours of league practice when their team called upon them, and Faye wondered what they had even told their teammates. She tried her best not to dwell too much on that.

After a while of finally being left alone, of picking at the rather leafy-looking food Marina had brought her and eating as much as she felt she could manage, of running through things over and over in her head as she tried to work out what path the future took, Faye finally slipped back into unconsciousness for the rest of the day.

* * *

When morning dawned, Faye was already wide awake. She’d slept as much as her body could put up with and she ached all over, but at least the nausea had subsided a lot by now. Marina had left her clean clothes to change into before she went to bed, which Faye only knew because there was a post-it note stuck against the top of the pile, since she must have been asleep when Marina dropped them off. Faye could see from the fancy-looking clock on the wall that it was barely even 6AM, and therefore probably a while before anyone else would be awake. Good.

Faye fought to change clothes, eventually only switching to the shorts Marina had left for her despite her hoodie still having blood stains on it, just because she didn’t want to hang onto too much that wasn’t hers. Despite Marina’s warning yesterday, she didn’t want to wait around for the others. She didn’t want anyone else getting involved and putting themselves at risk with whatever that thing had been. All she had to do was go back to the cabin and see if the monster had left, and if it _had_ she’d just… have to make sure there was no way for it to climb back up. Burn the plants at the edges of the building, or something. Hopefully nobody would notice the smoke.

Standing up was painful but doable. Faye winced as she tried to walk, looking down at the horrid blue lines scored into her lower leg and glad Marina had the thought to give her shorts instead of something that would rub against her injuries. She still dreaded the thought of walking all the way to the plaza – or working out where the plaza _was_ relative to here, since she had no clue where Pearl lived – but at least she had a plan. Things would be okay. She just had to keep telling herself that.

The first thing Faye learnt, as she slowly pushed the door to the room open, was that Pearl’s house was very big, and everything outside the spare room was even fancier than inside, from the wallpaper to the ceiling arches to the banisters on the stairs. Stairs were a good sign for the way out, at least, considering she was on the second floor. Faye struggled to step quietly with her painful limp, and grabbed onto a banister when she reached it, looking regretfully down at the stairs which she knew were going to hurt more to walk down.

“What are _you_ doing up this early?”

The sudden voice startled her, and Faye had to grab onto the banister with her other hand before she could topple over and fall down the stairs. That would _definitely_ hurt. Once she was sure she was safe, she looked towards the source of the words, hoping her irritation at being noticed didn’t show too much on her face.

Pearl was leaning against the nearby wall, holding a smug expression that didn’t fit how sleepy she looked. All she was wearing was shorts and a t-shirt so big it must have been one of Marina’s, so she must have been asleep at some point. She looked oddly bald without a spiky object sitting on her head.

“I… could ask you the same question,” Faye responded plainly, lowering herself to sit at the top of the stairs for now because she probably wasn’t going to be able to sneak out while Pearl was here and awake. Or at all, now, since she’d been caught.

“Some of us have shitty stomachs and have to use the bathroom every day at six in the morning,” Pearl stated plainly, telling Faye way more than she needed to know just with that one sentence. Instead of conveniently leaving Faye alone, Pearl decided to go and sit next to her instead, stretching her short legs out over the stairs in a way that looked like she might plan on sliding down them. Maybe she did. It sounded painful even without an injured leg. “You still haven’t answered the question.”

“Nothing. I’m not doing anything. I’m just awake.”

“Okay, _now_ you sound suspicious.” Pearl narrowed her eyes, placing her hands on her knees. This little squid was not afraid at all of the precarious position she had put herself in. “Either you’re super self-conscious about needing a glass of water, or you plan on sneaking away.”

Pearl was smarter than Faye had given her credit for, which wasn’t a good thing in this situation. “Sure. We’ll pretend it’s the first one.”

“Where were you even gonna go? You can barely walk.”

“I can walk just _fine_.” Faye gave an indignant huff, resting her chin on her hand. “I don’t want anyone feeling like they have to look after me, that’s all. Decided I might as well head off.”

“A’ight, so let me get this straight.” Pearl raised an eyebrow at her. “You thought people were gonna be less worried about you if you… vanished from the house in the early hours of the morning without a word, instead of when people were awake.”

Faye’s ears twitched irritably. “Something like that. But, fine. You’re awake. You’ll know where I went now.”

“ _Will_ I?” Pearl was surprisingly quiet when she was making sure she didn’t wake Marina and Eight, wherever in the building they might have been, but it sounded like she was pushing on her self-imposed limit. “You’re planning on going back to where you got attacked by the bogeyman?”

Somehow that descriptor managed to pull a dry laugh out of Faye. “I don’t know. It might be gone.”

“And if it ain’t?”

Faye shrugged.

“You’re a crazy squid,” Pearl muttered. “Okay, I tell ya what. Me an’ Rina have a break from work now since we’ve been covering the tourney all week. We can go with you an’ make sure you don’t get yourself killed or nothin’. Later. When it’s not 6AM.”

“I don’t want anyone else to get involved,” Faye said with a grimace. “I’m not reckless. I can do this myself.”

“ _Or_ I can go and wake Rina now and she can do a better job than me of convincing you this is a stupid idea.”

Faye fixed Pearl with a stern look. It didn’t seem like she was really being given a choice here.

Pearl met her gaze with equal-if-not-more stubbornness. “If you go with us, you don’t have to walk across town with a messed-up leg.”

Okay, that was a pretty good argument. Faye sighed. “Fine. You win.”

“ _Yes_.” Pearl fist-pumped the air, hopping to her feet at such a speed that Faye was sure for a moment she was going to accidentally fling herself down the stairs. “I’m going back to bed. It’s fuckin’ early as shit. Don’t try to sneak out without us or you’ll probably trip the house alarm by accident, ‘cuz I have done that _multiple_ times. Drives my dad insane.”

Faye was about to get up also, more carefully than the way Pearl had done, but a sudden stab of fear stopped her. “Your dad’s here…?”

“Nah. He’s away for work stuff like usual. This place is basically all mine. And Marina’s now, of course. Peace out, don’t break anything.” Pearl walked backwards in the direction of her room, making some kind of rock symbol with her hands before she finally turned and almost walked directly into a wall.

Faye rolled her eyes, finally climbing back to her feet – _owww_ – and returned to her room, almost getting lost in a bathroom on the way there because this place just had so many rooms in it. She sat on the too-comfortable bed and lamented for only a moment about her failed mission, because as much as she really didn’t want anyone else to be involved, the thought of potentially facing that monster again, alone, was more than enough for fear to grip her chest. It wasn’t like any of them needed to be put in danger; they just needed to check if it was there.

She mindlessly watched the city from her window for an hour before she finally felt tired enough to sleep again and crawled back into bed. When Faye next woke up, it was almost 10, and Marina was placing another glass of water on the nightstand.

“Sorry for waking you,” she said quietly. “Pearlie told me. Eight has practice with her team in an hour; we can go after she’s left, if you’re feeling up to it.”

Knowing that Eight wasn’t going to be involved with this was a relief; they didn’t need a fish monster to deal with on top of tournament prep.

After breakfast – Faye had never been so glad to have toast again, and Marina seemed to have developed some kind of kinship with her for turning down Pearl’s offer of fried eggs – Eight headed off for practice with their team, as Marina had said. Faye tried to help with clean-up as much as she could before Marina shooed her away, because she was a _guest_ and _injured_ , and eventually gave up and went to wait on a couch in the living room instead, gazing around at all the seemingly unnecessary objects in the room.

Being in a rich person’s house was so _weird_. Faye wondered if Marie lived in a place half as fancy as this. She probably did, given she was also rich. Maybe not quite on Pearl’s level, though.

Faye felt impatient and jittery by the time they actually left the house, but her injured leg stopped her from pacing back and forth. She had to wait while Marina fetched a sidecar for her motorbike from the garage, saying something about how Pearl used to ride in this but now just sat on the back of her seat instead since it was more convenient (‘and gay’, Pearl added). Climbing into a motorbike sidecar was made more difficult with aforementioned injured leg too, but as Marina handed her a helmet and told her to try and keep the longest parts of her hair within the seat area, Faye’s brain was briefly overtaken by how cool it was to travel somewhere by motorbike.

By the time they reached the plaza, Faye had decided that if she ever managed to get her life sorted out someday, she was absolutely going to be a biker lesbian. It was almost enough to distract her from what she knew was coming up.

Almost. Not quite. There was still a lot of blood on the ground around the grate here, and now she could see it in the daylight, Faye understood why she had felt so awful yesterday.

After managing to climb out of the sidecar without faceplanting the ground by accident, Faye set to unhooking the latch of the grate leading to Octo Valley while Marina parked her bike an inconspicuous distance away. It didn’t take more than a few moments, but when Faye dropped down into the tunnel, the stab of pain in her leg made her stumble and fall against the sloped wall.

“You okay?” Marina checked, offering a hand out to her that went untaken.

“Yeah. Let me go first,” Faye continued in a serious tone, pushing herself back up and trying her best to walk without a limp no matter how painful it was.

It took slightly longer than usual, but definitely a lot less than last time, to cross the distance of the tunnel, and Faye halted slightly before the sunlit pattern from the grate at the far end. She could see just from that alone that there were a few dented parts, a few chips in the previously near-perfect lines, from when that creature had battered the thing trying to get to her. Fortunately it hadn’t managed to get through.

But was it up there now? Faye strained her ears to hear.

“Well? We going or not?” Pearl asked, her voice way too loud now that she wasn’t using her specific 6AM volume.

“Just— _wait_.” Faye waved a hand back in her general direction, holding her palm open in the air to tell the two of them to stay back. She carefully walked forward, feeling her leg sting and the sunlight way too harsh as she entered the area it could touch and paint cross-crossing lines over her. Still she could hear nothing from outside.

As a last precaution, Faye lifted her arm and hit the grate as hard as she could, causing it to resonate out a loud _CLANG_! There was a muffled gasp and a quiet shuffling of clothes as both Pearl and Marina were caught off-guard by the sudden loud noise.

She listened, but there was still no sound. That creature had definitely reacted to noise before, smashing in through the window at the quiet sound of her voice, so if it hadn’t been alerted by the loud clang of metal… perhaps it really wasn’t here now.

“I think it’s gone, but keep an eye out,” she said quietly.

Now trying to keep as silent as possible, Faye unhooked the latch and climbed out, which was a lot more difficult than just hopping out in squid form, but her wounds weren’t recovered enough that she’d be able to do that yet without reopening them. She stood up, wincing, and looked at what lay ahead of her.

She’d been expecting just a shattered window. It was so much worse than that.

Most of the front wall of the cabin was missing. The door lay cracked on the ground in front of it and a moth-bitten curtain had managed to escape half way across the clearing, shredded. Cracked planks of wood were scattered across the ground, some of them with deep claw marks scored through. The tarp over the roof was hanging down where the entrance used to be.

“Oh, wow. Okay. Shit. Maybe the bogeyman was real after all,” Pearl muttered somewhere behind her.

Faye didn’t respond, trying to stay alert for noises while she made her way towards the wreckage, even though it felt like she was caught in a daze.

Her naïve hope that the inside might be better was quickly snuffed out. The table hadn’t moved from where it landed but two of the legs had broken off and one of its chairs had been crushed. The door to the freezer had been ripped off its hinges, its quiet hum had shut off, and the wooden floor in front of it was still darkened by the ice that must have melted out of it when it defrosted. There hadn’t been much food remaining there in the first place, but it was all gone now. Almost every wall had claw marks gauged into it, as if the beast had gone on a rampage looking for the food it could smell but couldn’t find; the plates that had previously been on the counter were now shattered across the floor.

Next to the bed, which had a few scratches down its side where the springs were now showing, the blanket Marie had given her a few months ago was shredded into pieces. That was what finally seemed to break through to Faye, the thing that made it feel like her throat was closing up and brought a fierce stinging to her eyes.

She couldn’t cry. Crying _wouldn’t_ fix this.

Could _anything_ fix this?

Her home was destroyed. This place was almost unliveable now. It wouldn’t even be able to protect her from the wind, let alone a fish monster if it came back.

“I’m sorry for doubting you,” Marina said quietly, but still loud enough to shock Faye out of her trance. She was looking around at the carnage with wide eyes, now realising how powerful the beast must have been to do this much damage. Pearl wasn’t in here, keeping guard outside and looking out for any signs it might be returning. “It… really did a number on this place. I’m glad you made it out when you did.”

 _I’m not,_ Faye thought hopelessly, but didn’t bring those words to voice. “Yeah,” she gave as an empty response instead.

She did see _something_ , poking out underneath the dented frame of the bed. Taking a deep breath and forcing the reaction her body was trying to have away, she crouched down, ignoring the sting in her leg as she reached over to pick it up.

Her straw boater. She usually kept it on the table, and it would have gotten flung off when the thing was knocked over, so it must have rolled under here. At least that had kept it out of range of that monster. Faye wordlessly placed it on her head, wishing that could do something to ease the way she felt.

Completely hopeless.

Where was she supposed to go now?

“I found your phone,” Marina said, accompanied by the crunch of glass as she went to pick up what she’d found and brought it over. “The screen’s broken, though, sorry.”

As the object was handed to her, Faye stared at it in her hands for a long moment. “No… it was like that before.” As far as she could tell there weren’t even any new cracks. It didn’t turn on when she held down the button, but the battery was probably dead by now. The charger was still plugged into its usual place, and Faye pulled it out to take with her, not wanting to risk the electricity in the cabin when she didn’t know which parts might be damaged.

All she could do was salvage what she could; it wasn’t as if much here was actually Faye’s in the first place. She had no idea how she was going to explain all this damage to the captain, or if he’d expect her to fix it for him.

“Do you have anywhere else to go?” Marina asked, her words soft and cautious, as if she were trying her best to not be insensitive.

“No,” Faye answered simply, her voice devoid of all the emotions she’d fought down.

“I’m sorry.” Marina placed her hand on the dismembered freezer, as if she was comforting the machine. “You can stay with us for a few more days, at least.”

“No, I can’t—”

“Yeah! My house is more than big enough to have an extra guest for a while,” Pearl butted in, abandoning her lookout duty as she appeared at the gaping hole in the wall. Her eyebrows rose at the destruction, but she didn’t comment on it. “We can help ya, no biggie. At least ‘til you got somethin’ sorted out.”

_I can’t let you help. I don’t NEED anyone’s help._

But she _did_. She couldn’t do this on her own, not anymore.

And Faye _hated_ it.

It wasn’t like she even had a choice. The only other option was trying to survive on the streets, or going into one of the domes that beast wouldn’t be able to get into, and neither of those options sounded appealing, or like a way that wasn’t going to get her killed.

“Okay,” Faye said eventually, her voice small and defeated. “Thank you.”

She felt too empty to register the frustration at needing help now.

Marina waited around to hold things as Faye searched for the little she owned, which was mostly clothes, as that was all she’d had on her when she first arrived here and she hadn’t been back to her mother’s house since the Kamabo incident. The bathroom remained untouched other than a scratch on the door, and Faye used an old plastic bag to stuff her clothes into. She let Marina carry that, and gathered up the one other collection she had; her agent gear.

The pile in the corner had definitely been disrupted, and the fishing cooler had been torn open, but her agent gear seemed to be mostly in one piece, except for the cape, which now had claw marks to add to the many other nicks and tears at its edges. Faye bundled up her heroshot and gear along with as many undamaged special cans as she could get to stay within the cape before deciding she was done, there was nothing else for her here. Some clothes, a gun and a phone charger were about all she owned, and they could fit into the sidecar with her.

Faye didn’t speak a word as she left, and there was no monster attack to stop them. The alley seemed unfamiliar and distant when she emerged from the tunnel.

Everything was changing, and not in a good way.

She didn’t look back as they left. The singular comfort she had was feeling the solid shape of her phone in her pocket again. As soon as she could charge it, she knew she had to message Marie. All she could do was hope the old magic kicked in and that would make her feel even a little better.

* * *

Goby Arena was a massive venue, built for use both as a basketball court and an ink sports stage, and with all the seating areas already set up for viewing such things, it was also a pretty ideal place for a concert – and, for the next few days, was also going to be completely empty.

Marie had been practicing with her cousin for this show for weeks now, but finally, with the place cleared out now there weren’t constant league matches and a higher demand for places to hold them, dress rehearsals with the crew could start. It was so reminiscent of old times, even without the crowds watching, that she felt new energy pulsing through her veins after the first run-through of their set list.

“Excellent! You’ve still got it, girls,” DJ clapped their finned hands together as the performance ended, a bright grin on their face. They looked more emotional about this concert than Marie felt – maybe not Callie. Callie was always super emotional. “Twenty-minute break, then we’ll do one more run through for the crew and that should be enough for today. I don’t want to run you all dry before the big day.”

“I feel like I could keep dancing for _hours_!” Callie cheered as she jumped on the spot.

“I’m excited too, but I could _not_ ,” Marie laughed, a little out of breath. They had their routine down, so at least they wouldn’t have to dance in the next practice, just move around to where they would be on the stage at different times of the song – though no doubt Callie was going to go all-in anyway, because that was how their practices always went.

Though it may have functioned well as a stage even when there wasn’t actually one there, Goby Arena didn’t have a proper backstage area, so for now they’d had to make do with one of the locker rooms. They were useful in their own way, mostly for the fact that they contained lockers, which kept their things safe during rehearsals, even if it felt a bit too like school days for Marie’s liking. There was nowhere in her authentic Squid Sister dress to keep her phone, so she’d had to lock it away for now, and that was her number-one way of passing time and thus what she made a beeline for as soon as their break started.

“Argh, which number did I use again!?” Callie fretted after trying her key in the third one, all of which had been on different sides of the room from each other. “I’ve tried my favourite number _and_ my birthday _and_ your birthday and it’s none of them!”

“I told you to just use the one next to mine and you didn’t listen.” Marie rolled her eyes, keeping a good-natured smile on her face because this was just how Callie was. “I think you said 30?”

“Oh! Of course I did.” Callie clapped her hands together as she made her way back across the room again. “Jake’s birthday. Less obvious.”

“Really, Callie, are you _sure_ there’s nothing going on between you two?”

“ _Yes_ , I _am_ sure!” Callie huffed at her. Marie honestly couldn’t tell if that was convincing or not, because despite the fact Callie wore her emotions on her sleeve, that somehow made it impossible to tell when she was flustered over something or just reacting a normal amount for her. “ _Some_ people can have really close friends without getting a hopeless crush on them, _Marie_.”

“Okay, okay, keep your voice down.” Marie waved a hand. She didn’t want any of the studio crew overhearing that. “Besides, I haven’t been close with Faye for long. The crush was way earlier.”

Callie just rolled her eyes over-dramatically, not as good at doing it effectively as Marie was, and went back to finally freeing her belongings from their imprisonment.

As she sat on one of the benches in the middle of the room, trying not to think too much about all the sweaty people who had sat here in the past, Marie finally checked her phone – and felt a familiar increase in her heartbeats when she realised she had a message from Faye. She hadn’t heard from her in a few days. Marie habitually glanced at Callie to make sure she wasn’t watching her expression to poke fun at her, before finally opening the message.

[13:17] hey im rly sorry but smth came up and I wont be able to make it to the concert

… Oh. That wasn’t what she’d been expecting to hear at all.

[13:56] is everything okay??

[13:56] yeah

[13:57] you sure?

[13:57] yeah! im fine don’t worry about me

[13:57] hope the concert goes well. break a leg?? is that the good luck term

There was no follow-up to that, no explanation of what had happened, of why Faye had changed her mind. Marie knew it was petty of her to be upset by this, but she thought they’d been getting somewhere – that Faye _trusted_ her, would talk to her about things, and if there was truly something wrong, wouldn’t she be honest with Marie about it? What if she’d just decided she wasn’t up to going after all, and was saying something came up as an excuse? Marie would’ve understood if she just said so…

“Marie? What’s wrong?”

“Huh?” Marie realised with a start how much her ears were drooping – but there was no point pretending with Callie, she could (almost) always tell when something was up. “It’s—it’s nothing. Faye’s not coming after all. To the concert.”

“Oh.” Callie, water bottle in hand, dropped down next to her on the bench, causing it to shudder a little. “I’m sorry, Mar. Did she say why?”

“No.” Marie fought to keep the bitterness out of her voice – it wasn’t fair on Faye. If she didn’t want to explain, it wasn’t fair of Marie to expect her to. “She just… said something came up, and that she’s okay.”

“Well, at least it’s probably nothing bad then, right?” Callie said with a hopeful smile, pulling her cousin into a brief hug which was more like being shaken side to side for a moment. “You’ll be able to see her again after the concert!” She cheekily patted Marie’s shoulder. “Maybe you can even ask her on a _date_.”

“Oh, whatever,” Marie snorted and pushed Callie away, but a smile returned to her face all the same. “I guess. Not to the last part.” She added quickly, seeing the twinkle in Callie’s eye. She only wished she had the guts to do that, or at least in a way where it was _explicitly_ _stated_ to be a date.

Callie was right, though. She had to just be glad that Faye was alright, and really, it wasn’t as if she’d have been able to interact with her at the concert anyway, not without putting her at risk from the media. For now, she would focus on the concert, and then… well, who knew what would happen after that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :(


	29. Brewing

The magic didn’t work.

Faye told Marie she wouldn’t be able to make it to the concert, and of course she’d asked Faye if she was alright, and of _course_ Faye had lied and said everything was fine. She didn’t want Marie to worry about her, or about the fact that big fish monsters apparently existed… within the city’s boundaries.

So much for the barrier being a bug zapper. Had that monster been there all this time, or had it snuck through when the power was down? As soon as Eight got back from practice, Marina had gathered the four of them up to talk about a potential new threat, and she was right that they should be concerned, but the decision in the end was that they needed the whole NSS to do anything about this, which meant waiting a few more days so that half the group weren’t busy.

Faye felt too numb to contribute to that meeting at all, other than answer Marina’s questions about the thing when she asked. It felt like the world was slowly crumbling around her. At the very least, she’d finally given in and changed out of her bloodstained clothes and into the shirt Marina had left for her, because most of the clothes she’d brought with her from the cabin needed washing. Faye had spent most of the afternoon sitting and watching them spin in the washing machine, because she didn’t have the energy for anything else.

At least her clothes were clean now.

The rest of the day was spent sleeping, waking up when food was given to her and forcing herself to eat it before it went cold, and then promptly falling asleep again. Her stomach wasn’t happy about it, but she could eat while she was here, and that was the main thing. She didn’t know what she was going to do when she had to leave, and this problem felt so much more unsolvable than just having to earn money.

Her messed up sleep cycle had her awake in the middle of the night, staring at the cracked screen of her phone which showed nothing but her background, a poorly-taken photo of Judd sleeping in the plaza from a few years ago. She longed to talk to Marie again, but she wouldn’t be able to speak of her current situation without pointing towards what had led her here.

She missed spending time with her, chatting at the side of the lake while they waited hours for the fish to get brave, feeling like all her problems were a world away and everything would be alright just from the presence of one squid.

Giving up on sleeping, Faye decided the next best thing would be to refill her empty glass with water, in the hopes that’d ease her slightly-stronger-than-usual headache. Pearl’s house was a nightmare to navigate, especially at night when she didn’t dare turn a light on in case it woke anybody else, but eventually Faye limped quietly back up the stairs, water in hand, trying once again to remember which room was hers. Who even needed this many rooms in their house? Pearl, apparently.

A sound made her freeze. Not a dangerous sound this time, one quiet and muffled and for a brief moment Faye thought her expedition had woken someone, until she realised what she could hear was sniffling. Her ears twitched as she tried to locate the source of the sound, eventually tracking it to a door that was slightly ajar, with no clue what could be inside just like with every other door in this place. Curiosity and concern getting the better of her, she went over to investigate.

One of the floorboards creaked a little underfoot as she stepped near the door, drawing a surprised – frightened? – squeak from inside. Faye suppressed a sigh, knowing she couldn’t just walk away now, but at least she wouldn’t be waking anyone up. Slowly, making sure she wasn’t going to cause the hinges to shriek in protest, she pushed the door open further.

Judging from the colour scheme she could barely see and the various gadgets in the room, this was probably Marina’s, but she’d offered her room to Eight for the past few nights. They looked up from where they sat with their knees pulled up to their chest, eyes round with fear despite the familiarity of the squid appearing in the doorway; their hair twitched in panic, and a second later they vanished from sight, the duvet falling flatly over the small lump of Eight’s octopus form.

Okay, that… was not a reaction Eight had given her in a long time, and Faye stood frozen at the door for a second as she tried to decide what she should do. Not wanting to risk pushing it any further, Faye slipped through the gap between the door and the wall which was just wide enough for her. “Eight? It’s just me,” she said quietly.

The duvet lump did not move or respond.

Faye stopped a few metres away from the side of the bed. “You alright? Nightmare?”

Another few seconds went by with nothing; then, slowly, the octopus-lump grew larger as Eight changed back. The duvet got thrown off by the transformation, and when Eight was back to being an octoling kneeling on the bed, they picked up a corner of it in their hands. Faye almost missed their wordless nod in the dark room.

“Do you want me to stay for a while?”

“I… think so.”

_You think so?_ Faye’s ears twitched a little at the noncommittal response, as she placed her glass on a nearby table and sat at the edge of the bed, bringing some relief to her injured leg at last. A potential reason for Eight’s uncertainty fluttered through her muted thoughts. “Was I… _in_ the nightmare?”

She wasn’t looking at them, but Faye felt the mattress move as Eight shifted awkwardly, moving back to their knee-hugging position. “A little bit.” They wiped their face with their sleeve, having been surprised out of crying for now. “It was one I have a lot.”

“I’m sorry,” Faye apologised without really thinking about it – because even when she wasn’t actually doing anything she still seemed to be able to hurt others. “What’s it about? If you want to talk about it.”

“I am trying to escape somewhere, I think,” Eight started, their hair beginning to curl up a little as they thought. “Somewhere… cold, and there is not much room, and if I do manage to escape… you are there, and you attack me, in the glass arena.” That last part was familiar; Eight had mentioned it months ago. “That is when I usually wake up.”

Faye took a moment to take this in, unsure if repeated dreams meant something. She’d had plenty of nightmares about being possessed by Tartar even though she had no memory of the actual fight, but that might also work as an explanation. “It might be memories of the metro,” she offered as a consoling reason.

“Maybe.” Eight didn’t seem convinced.

“I can assure you that I won’t attack you now, if that helps,” Faye shrugged. “Not that you’d have a lot of trouble if I did.”

“No—no, I know you would not, now.” Eight shook their head. “You are nice, and a good friend. If we did fight in the past we would not have known each other at the time. I guess… I would have been a soldier?”

“Perhaps. That would’ve been years ago. You don’t have to worry about that anymore.” Faye couldn’t imagine Eight as a soldier, but that was true for most octolings she saw in the city. Marina, possibly, given how calmly and seriously she handled things at times, but quiet, gentle Eight? No. Their combat skills were definitely that of someone with training, though, and Eight was nowhere near technology-literate enough to have been a scientist… it was a past they couldn’t remember, and therefore there was no point digging into it.

* * *

When Faye next awoke, the world wasn’t quite where she expected it to be and her body felt stiff, and she realised she’d fallen asleep propped up against the headboard of Marina’s bed. She’d stayed here a while, intending to just wait for Eight to fall asleep again in the hopes they wouldn’t have another nightmare, but now the octoling was snoozing with their back against her side, one tentacle of their hair wrapped around Faye’s arm. She unwound it carefully, trying not to wake them. Faye could count at least three time displays in this room, and it was only 7AM, with the exact number past slightly different on each one. Eight didn’t stir as she slowly climbed up from the mattress, and Faye breathed a silent sigh of relief once she’d managed to squeeze back out the gap of the ajar door.

It took slightly longer to locate the door of her room while her brain was still foggy from sleep, but Faye eventually passed out in bed again, this time in a much more comfortable position. She was woken a few hours later by Marina knocking on the door.

“Hey, Pearl’s making pancakes before Eight has to leave. Did you want to join us? Someone can bring some for you if you’re not up to it.”

It took a moment to register why Eight would be leaving – oh yeah, the tournament was tomorrow, and they probably had to get home anyway since they’d only been staying to make sure she was okay – but Faye didn’t want anyone going to extra effort just for her. “Yeah. I’ll—I’ll be there in a minute.”

As she heard Marina leave, she briefly regretted not asking her to wait for just a moment so that there was someone to navigate her back to the kitchen in this mansion, but fortunately the kitchen was a lot easier to locate than a specific one of the many bedrooms. Eight looked happier than they had in days, chowing down on a plate of pancakes that looked painfully big, and Faye immediately realised where their love for them had originated – especially pancakes that were absolutely _drenched_ in sugar, because apparently that was Pearl’s style.

“Are you looking forward to the tournament tomorrow, Eight?” Marina asked as she got up from the massive dining table to put her plate on the kitchen counter. There was an affectionate tone in her voice, like she was talking to a family member.

“Mmhmm!” Eight responded through a mouth of pancake. Pearl and Eight were the pancake-mountain eaters of this gathering; Faye could only stand to take a few, and not just because she felt bad about eating Pearl’s food, even if the little squid could very clearly afford it. Honestly, she was impressed at how fast Marina had gone through hers. Faye was still on her first one.

“It was _so_ _hard_ to not let on that we knew you after the quarter-finals started!” Pearl exclaimed, with significantly less manners as she spoke with her mouth full. “But we’re _super_ proud of you! Your team got into the _finals_ , that’s so wack! I kinda regret not getting tickets now.”

“If anyone recognised us there, all hell would break loose,” Marina laughed. “But we’ll be watching on TV and cheering you on!”

“Maybe if I cheer _super_ loud, you’ll be able to hear in the match,” Pearl nodded wisely.

“Pearlie, we don’t want you destroying half the city.” Marina patted her girlfriend’s head on her way back to her seat with a smile on her face.

“Meh.” Pearl waved her off and waved her fork in Eight’s direction. “I can get ya a lift back if you want.”

“I can walk, it’s okay.” Eight shook their head. “It will be like warm up for practice. But thank you for all of your support!”

“Of course, kiddo!” Pearl reached over to pat their arm. “Hey Faye, you can watch the finals with us if ya want! Or there’s a TV in your room, either way.”

“Huh?” Faye blinked in surprise, not expecting to be dragged into the conversation when she felt like such an outsider at this table. “Uh—sure.” She did still want to watch the concert – and Eight’s matches – and it would definitely be significantly less loud on television, especially if Pearl wasn’t in the room. The small squid gave a thumbs-up in response.

Eventually Faye finished her third and final pancake, regretting not having left it at just two because even from this handful of them she felt slightly icky (how on earth could Pearl and Eight eat _so_ _many_ without getting horrifically sick?), and as she got up to politely move her plate to the counter like Marina had done, she heard a phone buzz harshly against the table. It was Pearl’s, from the looks of things, and she picked up her device to look at why it was complaining with a frown.

“Ugh. Of course Dad would tell me he’s coming home right _after_ I make breakfast.” She huffed. “I would’a saved some for him. How am I supposed to prove how _cool_ and _independent_ I am now?”

“I can vouch for you,” Marina said with a laugh. “I’m sure he won’t mind. He’s probably had breakfast already. When’s he getting here?”

“Half an hour, he said. In theory. It’s Dad. He ain’t gonna care if Eight has to leave as soon as he gets here.”

Faye almost dropped her plate.

She caught herself, fortunately, placing it on the counter and feeling the slightly-louder-than-intended _clink_ sound chill her body.

She couldn’t let this happen, not now. There was no threat. None at all! There was _nothing to be worried about_!

Faye squeezed her eyes tight for a moment, trying to snap herself out of it. Everything was fine.

“I’m… tired, I’m going back to the room,” she stated simply, which was very much a lie because she had slept far too much over the past few days. She heard, distantly, an ‘okay!’ from Marina as she left in a way that hopefully didn’t seem too hurried.

Finding the room was made even more difficult when the whole world felt a little fuzzy, but Faye made it back and shut the door behind her, wishing Pearl’s house was fancy enough to have locks on the bedrooms.

Twenty-five minutes later, after staring at her phone and trying to calm down and wishing more than anything that she could speak to Marie, the muffled sound of the front door sent a spike of dread through her.

This was stupid. This was so stupid. It was just Pearl’s dad, someone she’d never met before in her life. _He’s not even a woman! He’s nothing like her!_

Everything would be fine. Everything _was_ fine. Faye was too far away to hear the conversation that was happening, but there wasn’t an angry tone to it that she could tell. She was still safe here.

The hallway creaked with footsteps heading her way.

_No no no no stay away from me STAY AWAY FROM ME!_

Panic gripped her chest.

She knew how unreasonable it was, that there was no danger, but she couldn’t believe it. Her leg only stung a little as she instinctively shrank into squid form, slipping through the gap between the bed and the wall.

There was nothing under this bed, other than darkness and the dust on the carpet and a plastic bag containing what must have been the extra screws from when the frame had been put together. That also meant there was nothing to hide her, but hopefully just being down here would be enough. Hopefully nobody would think to check under a bed. It had worked well enough to protect her in the past.

Faye was very glad it was difficult to cry in squid form, because that made fighting off the feeling a lot easier.

There was a light knock on the door. “Three? I have to go home now, I wanted to say goodbye first.”

It was just Eight. Faye breathed out a bubbly breath, feeling a little silly now, but not like the threat was gone. She couldn’t speak to reply – and they would hear the more-garbled squid voice if she could. She didn’t know what to do, frozen to the spot, and settled on just hoping they would look for her somewhere else and give her time to recover.

She was unlucky, because the door opened and Eight walked in. “Three…?” They spent a moment looking around, walking up to the side of the bed and lifting the duvet as if she was going to be hiding under it somehow despite it being flat against the mattress – and then, to Faye’s horror, leaned over to look underneath it.

Faye knew she must have looked pathetic, cowering against the back wall like a frightened inky child. There was absolutely nothing she could do about it, no words to explain, and all she could do was looked away ashamedly.

Eight’s hair twitched in confusion for a moment. More footsteps sounded from outside the now-open door, someone else walking up the stairs, and not being able to tell who it was just from the sound made Faye shrink back further against the wall.

It was bad enough Eight seeing her like this. She didn’t want to be noticed by anyone else, but she had no choice, she was going to have to find some excuse for why she was hiding under the bed that didn’t sound ridiculous and hope she could even _speak_ to say said excuse—

Eight sank down into octopus form, sliding under the bed as well. They hopped a little to get to the back wall, one of their limbs brushing against Faye’s. The odd feeling was almost enough to snap her back to reality – almost.

Shoes appeared at the doorway for a moment, and though it was impossible to see much from here it looked like the owner of them was Marina. She hesitated for a moment, letting out a quiet “hmm”, then continued on her way, possibly looking for Eight.

Once she was a far enough distance to not hear their voice, Eight spoke up again. “Are you okay?” Their voice was a little distorted from their octopus form, and even more difficult to understand when they were speaking so quietly on top of that, but the simple question was clear enough.

Faye didn’t know how to reply to that question, or if she even could. She curled up tighter in her squid form, half-melting back into ink as she tried to focus on just _saying a word_. “Yea.”

Eight curled one of their limbs around Faye’s significantly-less-articulate one. “Do you want me to stay?”

Faye’s immediate gut instinct was to fight them off, push them away, snap _no_ because she didn’t want to be _patronised_ like a _child_.

But somewhere in the part of her brain that still currently functioned, she knew Eight was just trying to help her, like she’d done for them.

“I’ll… be alright,” she managed to stutter out eventually, feeling a little relieved when the limb holding her slipped away.

Eight still bumped against her side anyway, which was probably supposed to be reassuring. Maybe it was, a little. “Do you want me to say anything to Marina?”

“ _No_.” That one she was a lot more immediate and stubborn about, because while Eight was in the range of ‘maybe it’s okay if they see her like this if they absolutely HAVE to’, Marina was _not_. Faye was not close to Marina. She meant well, but they’d barely spoken. “Just—just tell—tell her I’m… a-asleep, or… something.”

“Okay.” Eight gave her orangey-yellow squid limb another gentle pat before they slid away from her, back out from under the bed. “See you when the tournament is over?”

“Mm,” was all the response Faye could manage.

She felt like she was doing it again, pushing Eight away for no reason. At least she’d managed to hold back.

Eight closed the door when they left, and after hearing a few more muffled voices and the front door, nobody else came near the room. Faye dared emerge from under the bed, changing back to inkling form and immediately almost collapsing when she did – her leg stung, but the wounds hadn’t been ripped open from her impulsive transformation.

She spent the rest of the day sat in the corner of the room between the empty dresser and the wall, knees pulled up to her chest, only leaving and moving to sit on the bed when she knew someone would be looking in to ask about food. This time, she accepted Marina’s offer for it to be brought up to her.

* * *

Tomorrow was the day of the tournament. A few months ago, Margin would not have cared less, but now it felt like it was going to be the most important day of her life.

She was going to make the inklings pay.

Having Squidgy in Octo Valley had been less of a problem than she thought, save for having to bring him food since there was nothing else alive down there. Buying an entire dead animal from a butchers was kind of expensive, and there was part of her that thought she might as well just find a way to steal it (and another part of her that was deciding vegetarian was, in fact, a good way to continue living her life, even after nothing but plants in the domes), but she didn’t want to risk stirring up trouble. If she got arrested for stealing meat, that would definitely throw a wrench in her plans.

Squidgy had stayed put for the most part, other than one time when Margin had gone down into the valley and not been able to find him. She spent a short while calling for him and checking the wilted bushes further away from the waterfall, until eventually he appeared, climbing down the giant building that stood in the centre. It looked like he’d picked up a few scratches, possibly from the plants and debris of the building, but she didn’t know what had possessed him to try and climb the thing. Perhaps he was just bored.

He wouldn’t be bored, soon. Margin still had her doubts about involving him in her plan; perhaps she would just have to try and keep him here, safe, and when the beasts were causing a ruckus she could find a way to sneak away, get him back out of the barrier, to safety. Maybe she could just leave with her giant mutant pet. It wasn’t like there would be anything left for her in the city anyway, especially if anyone worked out she was involved.

That was the biggest seed of doubt that had planted itself in her mind, the lack of future, but she quickly brushed it away. Everything she was doing was so much bigger than her, so much more important, and she was willing to make sacrifices for it. Octavio would be so proud of her!

The sky was barely turning orange when she left the valley, walking to the junkyard because she wanted to save her fuel for tomorrow. The stench of rotten egg still lingered by the rocks, many days after the culprit had been removed, but it was fading slowly. Margin picked up the stereo and stuffed it into her bag alongside her notebooks – they went everywhere with her now, she’d learnt her lesson from leaving them behind – and made her, possibly final, walk back up to the hotel.

Everything was ready. She was going to have an early night for an even earlier start tomorrow, and nothing could stand in her way, not even her dreams, plagued with Agent 3 and Marina and Miles…

_She_ was _ready_. There was no turning back now. This was going to be the greatest accomplishment of her _life_!

If only greatest accomplishments didn’t feel quite so… empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :] see you on monday for The Beginning Of The Big Day


	30. Scales Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warnings: manipulation/abuse and mentions of past injuries (also a brief mention of an animal corpse)

The sun was only a strip of light on the horizon when Margin slunk out of the hotel. All the octolings were asleep still, every light off, not a sound other than the quiet rustling of the breeze scraping the top of the forest. Even her fitful rest couldn’t push down the energy of pure adrenaline she felt as she marched to her motorcycle, the heavy stereo pulling at her shoulders and reminding her of what today was.

The most important day of her life.

Margin walked the bike a little way down the mountain so the engine wouldn’t be heard back at the hotel – not that anyone would be able to catch up to stop her – and set out on this final journey. The land was familiar but different, as she’d never travelled _out_ when it was dark before, and there was a strong chill in the air which was blasted against her skin as she sped along. The clusters of trees and forests she passed were dark voids compared to the open, and she passed through a couple of the spots where she’d hidden the trail of rotten eggs, realising immediately that the smell hadn’t faded yet. In the interest of her poor senses, she tried to detour around them a little more.

She reached the final egg in the trail just as the bright edge of the sun appeared over the top of the mutant forest, casting a long shadow of the trees across the empty patch of land beyond the canyon. Margin dismounted her bike in the abandoned village, walking it up to the ancient-looking bridge and daring a glance over the side. The body of the creature that had fallen in the first time she’d been here was definitely going rotten after a few months, and she couldn’t stand to look at it for too long. Margin took a deep breath, grimacing at the smell of rotten egg, and continued to push her bike across the bridge. She wasn’t looking forward to driving back across again, but she would need a quick getaway if she didn’t want to get turned into a beast snack herself.

The forest was ominously quiet, housing its secret, as Margin reached the far side of the bridge, turning her bike around for her escape, and then going to work setting up the stereo. A few days prior she’d tested that it functioned, and it had definitely been able to make a very loud static noise when it tried to pick up a radio station from the junkyard. Hopefully that would be enough to attract some of the beasts if they went close enough to the edge of the forest.

Margin flipped the radio on, still set at full volume from her test, and it let out the most unholy screeching noise she’d ever heard.

She winced and clamped her hands over her ears – but this was so much better than she’d expected! Whatever had been messing with her phone when she went this far before must have still been in effect. Now she needed to get out of here.

There were a few howls in the distance as she drove across the bridge. It still felt unstable, like any of the stones glued in place could suddenly rip themselves free and throw her into the river below, but it was a lot safer when she wasn’t going at top speed. Margin narrowly avoided splattering her tires with the rotten egg she’d cracked on the ground weeks ago, and sped up, not daring to stop and look back until she reached the top of the hill.

She squinted into the distance, looking for any movement in the forest – and something slunk between the trees, meandering around the thinning trunks as it tried to locate the source of the noise. There were more on their way too, other shadows making their way out into the light. Parts of the canopy seemed to shudder.

It was working. Her plan was _working_! Margin couldn’t help but laugh victoriously, a wicked grin on her face as she watched the monsters zone in on the source of the sound. She still didn’t know for sure whether they would take the bait, but the few emerging from the undergrowth seemed to be sniffing at the air.

Sticking around would be too dangerous. Margin crossed her fingers and kicked her bike into gear, speeding back towards Inkopolis ahead of the destruction that was on its way.

* * *

Daylight had washed over the mountain by the time Margin reached the barrier. She sped through it, slowing down as she took the undefined path up to the edge of the valley, a place she hadn’t driven to since the first time she guided Squidgy up here. After having a near miss with at least three different trees, she finally reached the octopus-like rock formation, leaning her motorbike against it before she began her descent.

Squidgy was waiting for her in the foggy crevice as she reached the bottom, probably having heard the bike engine, trotting back and forth excitedly. Margin couldn’t tell if he had any idea what was going on in his old home or not, if he had any long-range instinctual connection to the other beasts. Most likely not. “Your friends are on their way, buddy,” she told him with a grin as she patted his snout.

For once, though, he wasn’t actually the reason she was down here. She’d set her plan in motion, but there was still one major thing she was missing, and that was a way to disable the barrier without Miles’ help. There were ways she could do that on her own.

She _didn’t need his help_.

Margin shook her head quickly, trying to set her train of thought back where she needed it. All she needed was something to disrupt the electricity of the transformer, and she could probably find something capable of that in the domes; they had weapons of various types, including the tasers that shot electricity, so perhaps there was something capable of making electromagnetic waves. That would be enough to knock the power out for a few minutes, at least.

Why hadn’t she thought of this before? Then she wouldn’t have had to get Miles involved, and he wouldn’t have _betrayed_ her.

He didn’t matter now. Nobody did.

It took a little while for Margin to track down the grate that led into the domes, since she’d never been out this way before and wasn’t quite sure where to start, but she eventually found it disguised in a pile of dry shrubs and other plants that were twining themselves around the bars at the edge. Squidgy sniffed at the metal, the fins at the side of his head fanning out in confusion, and Margin patted his neck. “I’ll be back soon.”

The pipe down into the domes was a much more winding one than the simple inkrail entrance in Cephalon HQ, because this one let out closer to the base in the underground city. As far as she knew, the inklings had never found this one, so deep in the valley, and it had been closely monitored in case Agent 3 decided to burst through expecting an easy victory.

Or perhaps she knew, and that was how she’d gotten into the base when she almost killed Margin.

_Don’t think about her right now. Not unless it’s about her getting ripped limb from limb by a hungry mutant._

The dome was silent as usual as Margin slipped through the final grate and into the room surrounding it. Rust scraped against her shoes as she stood up, and the door was almost falling off its hinges. The inklings had forced them to live in this dump for so long, scavenging materials… if it weren’t for their technological genius, the octolings would have died out a long time ago.

Were a bunch of mutant creatures capable of wiping out all of the inklings in the city? Probably not, but they’d deserve it.

The hinges squeaked as she pushed the door open, arriving in an unfamiliar part of the city she hadn’t been in before, but it wouldn’t be too difficult to navigate when the base was visible from almost everywhere, even in the darkness. Margin walked to the nearest break in the buildings, these ones having been abandoned a long time before Marina arrived and stole everyone, and looked around. The base was even easier to spot than she thought, and when she caught sight of it, a quiet gasp escaped her, drawing the stagnant air into her lungs.

Light.

There was light coming from the base.

_Don’t get too excited. It could be a trap set up by the inklings._

_But if it’s not…_

Margin started on her way there, intending to walk fast but quickly speeding up into a run as she sped through the empty streets.

_Octavio._

The base was unguarded, because there was nobody here _to_ guard it. Margin took the stairs two at a time, even when it caused her to almost trip onto the hard-edged metal, soon arriving at the entrance of the base she knew so well, where she’d spend her entire life, where _home_ was.

It felt colder than she remembered.

Margin kept all her senses on alert as she easily navigated the base, staying far from the large section of it that had been destroyed by the falling ship, something else which had no doubt been the inklings’ fault. The power station was on the way to Octavio’s throne room, and Margin warily glanced in to see what was generating the light; there was a single zapfish in there, locked within a forcefield absorbing its electricity. It looked exhausted, and… sad.

_Don’t start feeling bad for the zapfish. We need them as a power source._

As she reached the most regal-looking building of the base – which wasn’t very much so, considering the whole place was made of scavenged metal – Margin felt a coil of nerves wedge itself in her abdomen. There weren’t many times she’d seen Octavio in the past few years, with the inklings abducting him after their first victory, and then him only escaping briefly twice after that. Surely he would know who she was; she’d been created from one of his own limbs, and wasn’t that enough on its own for her to have some kind of connection to him? That wasn’t how the octolings usually did things, though; most of them didn’t even know who they’d been created from.

The throne room was lit as she approached. There was definitely someone here, and Margin braced herself to see an inkling waiting for her, most likely Agent 3.

Instead, the entire throne was taken up by its rightful owner, one large limb looped over each of the arms. He looked down at her, unspeaking, like he couldn’t quite decide if she was real or not.

_He’s here._

_He’s really here!_

_Don’t overreact, Margin. Remember, he’s your king._

“ **Your majesty** ,” she finally managed to say a little breathlessly, bowing as deeply as she could manage without upsetting her lungs. Had the air always been so awful down here? This was the inklings’ fault. All of it.

There was a silence, a painfully long one.

“ **Margin**.”

He knew who she was. He _recognised_ her.

“ **You returned here. State your purpose**.” Octavio spoke formally, his voice a little hoarse from not being used. Margin didn’t know where he’d been all this time, and it might be insubordinate of her to ask, but he looked a lot more… rough, than when she’d last seen him. One of his front limbs had a scar that looped all around it, as if it had been severed forcefully and grown back, and unlike the others it sat limply by his side with another rested on top, instead of the way he usually crossed his arms, suggesting he couldn’t move it quite as well.

_An inkling must have done that to him._

_Don’t worry, your majesty, I’ll make them pay very soon._

“ **I’m… seeking something that might be able to disrupt a power transformer** ,” she reported. It was time to let Octavio know what she’d done while he was away. “ **I’ve led some mutant beasts on a trail to the city, sir. They have a barrier surrounding it, but I know it’s possible to get them past if it’s disabled. They’re going to _pay_ , sir.**”

“ **I see.** ” It was impossible to read his expression. “ **About time those slimy eels felt some pain. Good work.** ”

_Good work._ The compliment echoed over and over in her head like a broken phonograph. Margin couldn’t fight back her smile.

“ **And the other octolings?** **Where is the rest of my army? Your note said they were still loyal.** ”

“ **… Yes. The other octolings.** ” Her smile fell. “ **I… tried my best, sir, but I’m afraid… most of them would not listen to me when I promised you would return. But… I’m still on your side!** ”

“ **Bah**!” The last part didn’t seem to console him at all, and one of his limbs rapped loudly against the metal throne. “ **Fine. The octarian army doesn’t need deserters.** ”

“ **Yes, sir**.” Margin gave a nod, and dared look up at him. “ **Do you… want to see the work I’ve done, sir? I’ve compiled research of the beasts, and some of my notes are a little messy, but—** ”

“ **Later** ,” he boomed with a strong tone of disinterest in his voice that made Margin’s chest hurt. “ **If they hurt the inklings, that’s good enough. Return to your duty, soldier. There should be plenty of hypnoshades in the lab, if they ain’t being used.”**

**“The shades…?”** Margin echoed, standing up straight at last. No, _no_ , she didn’t need them! “ **But—sir, I don’t—I’m loyal to you, your majesty, I do everything you—”**

**“ _Are_ you?” **Octavio’s gaze became piercingly strong, and Margin was reminded just how small she really was. “ ** _Anything_ could have happened after the inklings forced me out. If you _are_ loyal to your king, you’ll do as I say and put on the hypnoshades!**”

Margin opened her mouth to speak, and quickly decided against anything she might say. It wasn’t worth it; she didn’t want to disobey his orders. Her whole _purpose_ was to serve Octavio, as his strongest and most loyal soldier. This was what she’d been created for. “ **Yes… yes, sir.** ”

“ **Go**. **Now**!”

She nodded quickly and turned, her pace fast as she marched in the direction of the labs, forcing a purposeful gait into her walk. This was it; what she’d been waiting for, the reason she was doing all of this! Octavio had finally returned!

And he didn’t even trust _her_ , after everything she’d done.

No, she couldn’t think like that. Having thoughts of doubt about Octavio was traitorous, and she was the furthest from a traitor. It was _understandable_ that he didn’t trust her; he didn’t know what the inklings could have done to her in all the time he was gone. Margin didn’t understand exactly how the hypnoshades worked, but she’d often worn them before, and that had been… _alright_. Everything would be fine.

This wasn’t how she’d imagined Octavio’s return, but that was _fine_.

The nearest lab was still running from the limited amount of electricity, with the quiet hum of computers, possibly accessed recently, and the light overhead flickered on slowly when she tried the switch. This place was somewhat familiar to her, even if she’d only been into this room once or twice. Lab coats had been discarded in the corner when everyone left, and a box of hypnoshades lay innocently on the table. Margin sucked in another deep breath – the air in here tasted worse, somehow – and stepped up, choosing a pair and lifting them out of the box.

The shades reacted from her touch, the screens at the front flickering with red light patterns, and Margin fought to not drop them. There was this weird pulling sensation she got from them, like they were making her _want_ to put them on, but at the same time a fresh wave of anxiety froze her to the spot.

It wasn’t that hard to do. She just needed to put on the shades. Maybe Octavio would take control of her for a while, but then he’d give her back! Right?

She had to trust Octavio.

She had to.

He was her king.

He didn’t trust _her_.

She didn’t _want_ to put on the shades. She didn’t even entirely know why.

But she had to. If she didn’t she’d be disobeying his orders, and then his suspicions of her being disloyal would be _correct_ , and her life would be ruined.

Margin’s head hurt, and the lab walls felt like they were crushing her, despite how open the room was. Her hair twitched of its own accord, distress and a trace of anger pulsing through her until it felt like she was about to lose her balance, and she reached out to place a hand on the surface behind her to right herself.

**_“Identification confirmed.”_ **

A squeak of surprise escaped her at the sudden digitalised voice, and Margin jumped, snapping her hand away and spinning around so fast she almost _did_ end up toppling over. The large screen that took up most of the wall had flickered into life, with the words she’d just heard along with ‘ **Octavio’** and ‘ **access** **granted’** written in large letters. Was Octavio using the computer system to check on her and make sure she was doing as he’d asked? He really didn’t trust her, but he had every right not to as she ended up _doubting_ him and she was such an _awful_ soldier and she needed to just put the shades on, as soon as possible, unless he was going to tell her he’d changed his mind.

But there was no link, no sign of Octavio, just a new screen with a large collection of badly-organised files. Margin stared at it for a moment, baffled, until she finally looked down and realised she’d placed her hand on the trackpad used for controlling the device.

Had it… picked up that she was made from Octavio’s DNA, and falsely identified her as him?

If that was the case, this was bad, she should close it down immediately, if this computer was identity locked then it was something regular soldiers weren’t supposed to look at.

**_Margin._ **

Seeing her name on the screen made her hesitate. Why was there a file with her name? The whole thing was titled **_Test Log: Margin_** which sounded… a little foreboding, maybe, and immediately made her wonder what on earth such a thing was doing by existing. Was it just… a log of the reports she’d given Octavio, maybe, and he stored all the reports everyone gave on this system?

But there were only two titled that way, one with her name and another with **_Base,_** which didn’t sound like a name at all. Some kind of test log of… the octarian base? Maybe…?

She really shouldn’t be looking at this, but also, if Octavio _really_ didn’t want anyone else to look at this information he would have set it up so that it didn’t identify people who _weren’t_ him as himself. Right?

Feeling a foreboding sense of discomfort as she dragged the cursor over the file with her name, Margin hesitated for a long moment before clicking on the one alphabetically just before it, and not too far away in the horrible clutter of files on-screen.

**_Final log_ **

**_XXXX-07-08_ **

**_Base has not been found after escaping the chamber, and while it’s difficult to search the city without anyone being aware of her existence, it’s looking likely she escaped through the valley chute. Exposure to the Inkantation may be the cause of this, despite all our past testing. We trained her decently, but not enough to survive on the surface alone, especially with the side effects of the memory alter. Subject has been of little use to us with no ability to communicate and the accompanying test terminated, so with Octavio’s decision upon his return to us I announce this one terminated as well. I only hope her inevitable death is as painless as possible._ **

**_Signal_ **

Margin vaguely recognised the name this log was signed with; Signal was a scientist she’d seen around the base, albeit rarely, and he had been one of the few who perished in the explosion when the ship crashed.

But ‘Base’… that wasn’t referring to their base at all, she was actually a _person_? Margin scrolled up to previous logs, looking for further explanation of what the ‘memory test’ might be, and found one from years prior to the final log.

**_XXXX-06-05_ **

**_The experiment has taken a slight emergency turn after a critical problem with the accompanying test. As the new leading scientist of this experiment I fear I may be at least partially at fault for the errors that occurred, but I do believe I know how to fix them for when this method is next used, without the unwanted effects. Base is no longer able to speak other than unintelligible noises but appears to understand our words, at least sometimes. From reactions alone I would guess the implanted memory was successful, but we do not yet know how long the possible other memory issues might last._ **

**_Signal_ **

From the sounds of things, they were running a memory-based test on someone. That was… unusual, and not something Margin had ever heard about happening? Why was there a secret memory test?

Was _she_ part of the secret memory test? Is that why she couldn’t remember anything from the first twelve years of her life…?

No, that wasn’t possible. She was a solider, she was trained to be a soldier, she was made from one of DJ Octavio’s own limbs, there was no way she would have been a _test_ _subject_.

Swallowing hard as her mouth suddenly became incredibly dry, Margin backed out of the file. Her hand shivered as she opened the one with her name on instead, met with the final log.

**_XXXX-06-06_ **

**_Due to involvement with the medical bay for emergency reasons, Margin can no longer be kept a secret from the rest of the army. She’s well-trained and her injuries are recovering well, with no side effects from the memory implant other than a slight language issue which I believe should be fixable with time, so we can have her be a regular soldier without issue. This experiment is henceforth terminated, but it has been a great honour to take on this task, however briefly. Thank you, Octavio._ **

**_Signal_ **

What did that _mean_!?

Maybe this was just something she’d decided to take part in and it had caused her some memory issues, like whoever ‘Base’ had been. That was all. That was all it could be!

Her hair writhed and twisted uncomfortably behind her as she scrolled up to the earliest log, hoping that was what she would see written. It was dated about three years before the final one.

**_XXXX-09-17_ **

**_It’s time to start logging our data on the experiments for easier access now we have this computer system set up. I’ll take up the role myself since nobody else has. Octavio, sir, if you could dedicate more of your staff to these menial tasks I would very much appreciate it._ **

**_The information we have thus far:_ **

**_One octoling created from one of Octavio’s limbs._ **

**_One octoling created from a previous soldier (data on who specifically was lost, but records at the time were checked to make sure they didn’t have Octavio’s DNA from the past two generations)._ **

**_We are testing to see if a type of hypnosis signal applied through eyewear is enough to bypass the controlling nature of an ancient song the inklings may have found. Both subjects are being kept in isolation and have been under the hypnosis since they were developed enough to leave the incubators. We are monitoring them for any side effects while making sure they both have the physical training required for a soldier when the testing is done._ **

**_So far we cannot tell if Octavio’s DNA increases the effectiveness of the hypnosis. We may need to do further tests in future to find out if this is the case or if the rest of our soldiers can be protected as well._ **

**_It’s an honour to be able to work on such an important project. Thank you, DJ Octavio._ **

**_Anten_ **

“ _Anten_!?” Their name escaped Margin’s lips as little more than a breath. Had they been involved with something here? They’d never mentioned anything like this to her, even though she’d apparently been involved. That seemed like _important information_ for her to know!

Anten must have done something to her. That’s why they’d been exiled and sealed. A new horrified fury ran through her body as Margin scrolled down to look for more information.

A lot of it wasn’t interesting, just reports on what small tests they’d run.

**_There’s been a hypothesis that the hypnosis could be made a lot stronger, and Octavio wants us to test just how strong this could be. It could be used to control people entirely rather than just deflecting a song, and while this would be an effective way to deal with insubordination, I feel it may be a little unethical to remove our soldiers’ free will. Octavio does not agree with this sentiment. I will continue with my job in the hopes this information will help us in the long run against the inkling threat._ **

There were the first signs of their ultimate betrayal, clear for Octavio to see.

And yet… it was just them sympathising with the soldiers Octavio wanted to control. The hypnoshades were just a protective measure after many of the octolings abandoned the army following Octavio’s loss to Agent 3! The only reason they were used was because so many of the others didn’t want to follow their leaders’ orders!

Or at least, that was what Margin had always believed…

But she couldn’t be _wrong_.

As she skimmed through the rest of the log, there were more and more instances of Anten doubting their leader – and having the gall to say that directly to him, in this log intended for him to see. Until, finally, Margin saw a date she recognised well, and froze for a long moment as she debated if she even wanted to keep reading.

But she had to. Every memory she had of the time was fuzzy at best. She need to know how Agent 3 had broken into the base and attacked her. Had that been her first time being released out on an actual mission? There had been no mention of her leaving the testing area before now. Part of her was glad she couldn’t actually remember any of this.

**_XXXX-05-31_ **

**_We’ve hit an emergency stop today after a serious problem with today’s test. Octavio was present for this one in order to test the full strength of the hypnosis as it’s set to respond to his command only, to prevent misuse should anyone turn against him and the octarians. As a test of its power, he commanded Margin to stab herself. We had first aid ready, but I think he expected a limb injury or something similar; instead it was potentially fatal and we do not yet know if any of her organs have been damaged. She’s been removed from the test facility and transferred to the medical bay for treatment. Hopefully the damage isn’t too bad._ **

**_This has shown that the hypnosis is strong enough to overpower even someone’s survival instincts. Octavio, I think we should shut this down and abandon the project. This is too much power for one person to have, even in a war. It’s almost killed Margin and it still might. You’ve given her a serious injury, and even if she does recover from it, I don’t want to think about the amount of trauma it will cause when she realises how easily you could make her do something like that._ **

**_I hope you finally realise what I’ve been trying to tell you all this time. This is wrong._ **

**_Anten_ **

_No._

No, _no_ , this couldn’t be right. This was a lie. That hadn’t happened at all! Margin could remember that day, and there was no _test_ , no _Anten_ , Octavio _hadn’t been there_! Agent 3 had invaded their base and Margin had tried to fight her off, and she’d taken a knife she got from… somewhere… and she’d stabbed Margin, and grinned like the disgusting evil inkling she was, and left her victim on the ground to bleed out.

The ground of… of… the training area? One of the warehouses? Margin couldn’t quite remember where it had been, but she _definitely remembered it happening_.

**_XXXX-06-04_ **

**_How do the scientists do this? I HATE writing. Waste of time! That slimy eel always insisted on LOGGING everything. It makes sense. That’s annoying. The rest of their complaints were even more annoying but they weren’t RIGHT! I can do whatever I want with my soldiers. They’re MY soldiers. I made them!_ **

**_At least they won’t be a problem now. How DARE they threaten to tell everyone about the top secret test. Someone would find the body if I killed them, so I used the machine to wipe their memory instead! And the shrimp had the nerve to STILL complain when I told them about the hypnoshades THEY helped make when I mentioned them being dispersed to the other soldiers. Bah! Made a spectacle of them at least. Everyone enjoys watching a good sealing. They can live in shame for now. Next time I have to shoot someone as a warning I should aim for something more important than an ear. GYA HA HA!_ **

**_Writing is such a pain. My laugh does not have NEARLY the same effect in words as the one I just made._ **

**_This is the log about Margin, not her traitorous overseer. She seems to be recovering from the wound. Really, after all her training she was STUPID enough to almost stab one of her own hearts? I should have specified an arm or something. Still, a successful test! Now we know the shades will work! Would be useful on our enemies, if it’s powerful enough to force someone to almost kill themselves. Agent 3 has been meddling closer to our base. If only someone could catch her._ **

**_Still, we can’t have Margin realising what happened. The memory implant test was a semi-success with Base. Seemed to cause some serious memory and speech issues. Scientists think it’ll wear off, but if they could stop that happening at all with Margin’s one that would be GREAT._ **

**_Ugh. I’m sick of writing. End of log._ **

**_Octavio_ **

**_XXXX-06-04 2_ **

**_MORE writing. ARRRGGHH! Having fingers is such a pain these days. Need to find a replacement Anten soon so someone else can do this job again._ **

**_Memory implant on Margin seems to be a success. Probably. Might have also wiped everything else unless the hypnosis has kept her unconscious all these years in the first place. Either way, problem solved. Anything she might have remembered from the test has been replaced with an attack from Agent 3. I do HATE Agent 3. Perhaps this will give her some extra motivation to get rid of her if that disgusting squid is still kicking when Margin can fight again. We can recycle her into a regular soldier now. She’s made from my limb. That’s GOOD DNA._ **

**_I’m going to go and find someone else to write these DAMN LOGS now. I HATE WRITING!! This is why I have SCIENTISTS to do it FOR ME!!!!_ **

**_Octavio signing off FINALLY_ **

The next log was the one from 2 days later.

This was—this couldn’t be true. This was a trick.

Her encounter with Agent 3 couldn’t be _fake_.

This was a lie. This was a _lie_!

It felt like the room was spinning around her. Margin could vaguely hear her own breath, fast and panicked as she stared blankly at the words in front of her. _It’s a lie. It’s a lie! Octavio wouldn’t do something like this! He WOULDN’T!_

Agent 3 had attacked her and she HATED Agent 3 and Agent 3 was a DESPICABLE squid who had definitely been in the base! Because she remembered it! She remembered it happening! It couldn’t be a fake memory!

Margin pulled up the hem of her shirt, staring down at the stab wound on her stomach as if that was supposed to be proof of anything. She tried with all her might to remember more of how it had happened, anything to prove to herself that _it really had happened and it wasn’t fake and she WASN’T WRONG._

Was this why Agent 3 had forgotten what happened? Because it had _never happened in the first place_!?

“N-no, _no_ …” Margin let go of her shirt and pulled her arms tightly around herself instead as she struggled to breathe.

This was all she’d cared about for so many years, her driving force, the reason she’d spent the past few months doing everything she could to destroy the inklings, and it was all because of a _LIE_!?

It wasn’t all a lie. The Great Turf War was real. The inklings really _had_ banished them all into the domes a hundred years ago. That couldn’t be a lie. Every octoling knew it, even some of the _inklings_ seemed to know that. That was why they’d thought octolings were _extinct_.

And yet octolings had broken free, octolings like _Marina_ , and the inklings hadn’t forced her back underground. They hadn’t done that to any of the octolings she’d brought to the surface either.

All this time she’d thought Marina was trying to control them all. It wasn’t Marina she should have been worried about.

Even without any kind of hypnosis, Margin had been controlled by a memory Octavio had implanted in her this _whole_ _time_.

A _lie_.

She didn’t know what to do. Her world was crumbling around her. Everything was a mess and _fake_ and she didn’t know _what_ to believe, and what if this was a trick that Marina had set up somehow when she was in the domes and none of this was true but then _why did it explain EVERYTHING_!?

All Margin could do was fall to her knees, curling her fingers into her hair as each tendril wrapped itself around her arms in a bruising grip, out of her control.

She couldn’t do anything.

She couldn’t do _anything_.

Nothing was real! _NOTHING_!

She felt the ground shudder beneath her.

At first she thought she was imagining it. As Margin slowly managed to free her arms, move her hands away from her head, she felt it again.

Then she remembered why she was down here, what her purpose had been, and she had absolutely no idea how much time had passed.

Everything was a mess, and she had a terrible feeling _this_ was the mess she’d wanted.

Did she still want it? She didn’t know. Everything was so confusing. The lies were so deeply imbedded in her like the roots of an aggressive plant, and she couldn’t remember what was what anymore.

She’d spent all this time waiting for Octavio to return, and now…

Now she had to go. Margin looked at the hypnoshades, glinting on the floor nearby where she must have dropped them without realising. If she just followed Octavio’s orders and put them on, she wouldn’t have to feel anything anymore.

But there was also the chance she’d lose all of her thoughts, all of her free will, and she had no idea what _else_ he could decide to make her do.

Was that what she wanted?

_No_.

Margin felt shaky and awful as she forced herself to stand up, but she couldn’t stay here, not in this room, not in this base, not now she knew all that had occurred here. She had to go. She had to get out of here.

There wasn’t a second to waste. Margin ran.

* * *

When she returned to the surface, empty-handed, Squidgy was restlessly pacing around the grate where she’d vanished, letting out quiet whiny sounds. He kept looking off in one direction, towards the rocks, his fins fanning out repeatedly as if he were trying to listen for something. Whatever it was, it seemed to be distressing him.

Margin had a fairly good idea of what it was.

“It’s okay,” she managed to say once she found her voice. She felt drained, hollow, and even the air of the surface felt different against her skin. Even Squidgy seemed different, with the way he was acting; she hadn’t heard him like this since that little pond she’d left him at near the forest.

This was bad. Potentially bad. Maybe not bad? She didn’t _know_ anymore! _Ugghhhh_!!

Margin ran to the steep slope, taking the path she’d done many times now as she climbed back up. She looked behind her at a noise to see Squidgy clawing his way up after her, but she didn’t try to stop him.

When she reached the top, looked out over the trees below to the distance, she saw exactly what she’d expected – and yet it still felt like a shock.

It was the giant beast. Margin felt like it should have seemed less intimidating out in the open, in daylight – the sun was high in the sky now – but instead that just made it ever more horrifying. It towered higher than any of the nearby trees, its physique not much different than Squidgy’s other than multiple times bigger and with no notable scars on its body because it was too big for anything to leave a dent. It walked, slowly, the earth cracking beneath its giant torn-webbed feet with every heavy step it took, its tail dragging on the ground behind it, but the large fins at the end were horizontal instead of vertical, pulling at the earth instead of drawing a deep groove through it.

The only thing that could stand up to its height was the pillars of the barrier, which reached just above its head. There was a large group of the smaller (but not small) mutant beasts milling around it, trying to stay close but not close enough that they could get crushed by a step. A small one lay on the ground near the barrier, dead, and a few others twitched nearby as if they’d been zapped by the electricity but it hadn’t been enough to kill them, and they were struggling to stand up again.

They looked about Squidgy’s size, and Margin felt a small spark of relief for the first time in a while knowing that the barrier probably wouldn’t have _actually_ killed him if he’d touched it.

The giant took a step forward, and as soon as it went within the threshold of one of the spires, the structure buzzed angrily. A bright bolt of targeted electricity shot through the air, crackling against the scales on its shoulder and causing the monster to let out a horrific high-pitched shriek.

It backed away, almost losing its footing. All the electricity had done was burn its scales, and there didn’t seem to be any other effect on it, no paralysis like a few of the smaller ones seemed to be recovering from. It was far too big to be killed by the barrier, but the barrier could still cause it _pain_ , and that would make it want to turn around and leave. A bunch of noise wasn’t worth the agony of being zapped, surely.

Margin knew this was what she’d wanted, for the beasts to enter the city and cause havoc, but now… they could turn around and leave. Everything would be fine – well, nothing would ever be fine again, ever, actually, but the beasts would be gone. She’d never found anything to disable the barrier with. They couldn’t get through without her.

Another high-pitched noise came from the giant, a cry she couldn’t decipher but was probably an upset one. It made the huffing sound she’d heard before, the strange air-puffing sound.

Then it took another step towards the barrier, rearing up onto its hind legs, an act that took some difficulty for a beast so large.

The barrier shot out its defence again, but the electricity did nothing to stop the beast as it slammed its forelegs against the tower.

The electricity disappeared.

Metal creaked loudly enough to be heard from the edge of the valley.

Sparks burst from the base of the tower as wires were ripped out of place.

The giant metal spire groaned and snapped as it fell, crushing trees and plants and smashing into the earth, causing a horrendous tremor that Margin felt as if the structure had fallen directly on her.

The barrier was down. There was nothing else to stop the monsters from getting into the city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh!
> 
> Also, since there's no years on the logs, for time purposes: The general testing ended around the era of splatoon 1 hero mode, but "Base" (I wonder who that could be) remained as a subject for another two years until she escaped, in splatoon 2 hero mode time (or perhaps the time of another event that happened simultaneously....)
> 
> And since I should acknowledge this, I'm going to continue posting this story here until it's complete, but after that I'm going to try and find a different site to continue the series on unless ao3 decide to update their content policies by then.


	31. Monster

This was bad. This was bad, bad, so very bad.

But what if this was okay, actually? A giant, destructive, deadly beast being released unto their home was what the inklings deserved, right? This was what she’d wanted? Why she spent so much time trying to _cause_ this?

Except now Margin didn’t know _what_ she wanted. Her thoughts were still an absolute mess as she tried to process everything while faced with this impending doom. Octavio had lied to her and planted a false memory in her head to cover up the fact that he’d _almost killed her_ and used that to make her angry about an experience she’d never even had.

She _was_ angry. Margin just didn’t know exactly who her anger was directed at. Octavio, probably, but there was still a large portion of her brain screaming _no, you can’t think badly of your king or you are a traitor._

Another high-pitched cry chilled the air as the colossal beast finished sniffing at its fallen foe, the metal spire, and raised its head towards the sky. Margin couldn’t tell if it was trying to smell or hear, but it was definitely looking in the direction of the city. That could have just been because the city was directly in front of it, but there were also a lot of smells and sounds in the city that a beast with refined senses would definitely pick up.

Beside her, Squidgy let out a quiet whine again, claws scraping on the rocks as he shuffled his limbs. He took a few steps forward, looked at Margin with drooping fins and tail, and then took off down the incline.

“Wha— _Squidgy_!” she called after him, stunned out of her initial wave of shock. Where was he going!? He couldn’t leave her now! “Squidgy, _stop_! Come back! _Listen_ _to_ _me!_ ”

He glanced back briefly at her voice, the tone it held, but he didn’t stop, soon disappearing into the shadows of the trees below.

Margin didn’t understand. Squidgy may not have understood her words but he was usually at least _somewhat_ obedient, and now he’d run off on his own for the first time since he started listening to her.

It must have been the giant. That thing was calling him back, and maybe that was what had been upsetting him the first time, too.

He didn’t seem happy about it.

Margin yelled and kicked a nearby bush, which wasn’t nearly as satisfying as she’d hoped. She had to _do_ _something_. Her options were let a giant monster potentially kill everyone or stop it from doing that.

_Could_ she stop it? Was there even anything she could do? She was just one small octoling, and that thing was the size of a three-storey building. It wasn’t likely to go away if she politely asked it to.

If she _did_ do anything to stop it, she’d be betraying Octavio. She’d already told him about her plan, and he would be _very_ angry if he found out she’d changed her mind and tried to prevent it happening.

Did she _care_ what Octavio thought?

Yes. It was so deep ingrained into her system she _had_ to. She had to be a _loyal_ _soldier_. That was literally her entire purpose, the reason she’d been made.

_Octavio betrayed me first._

Her hair twitched and lashed and tried to loop itself around her arm again, and Margin clenched her jaw. If there was one other thing Octavio had conditioned her into, it was to despise any kind of treachery or betrayal, and right now… that was working against him.

“ _AUURGH_ , _FINE_!” Margin harshly shook her arm free – _ow_ – and ran towards her bike. “These damn inklings better appreciate this.” Ideally they’d never find out she was involved at all, and even more so finding out that she’d done something to _help_ them, because despite the whole earth-shattering discovery she still _hated_ them. Maybe they’d done one or two less things to hate them for, and perhaps the whole part about them being manipulative masterminds was _debatable_ when her leader had been eager to take away the free will of his subjects. Margin shuddered.

All she had to do was drive out there and get the beasts’ attention with her noisy bike and lead them away from the city, preferably far from the trail she’d left so they wouldn’t come back. Then they would be gone and nobody would be in terrible danger, and Margin would be left having to work out where she could even go now. Everyone at the hotel hated her, even her best friend, and now she understood why most of them had been so eager to leave their original home.

Perhaps she could just go back underground, to Octavio, and pretend something definitely not involving her had gone wrong with the plan and that she’d never read any of the stuff she learnt today and everything would be _fine_.

He would force her to put the hypnoshades back on, and that would be okay, because she’d been _fine_ like that for the first twelve years of her life. What were the chances he’d make her stab herself again? Not likely. That had been for a _test_! The test was done!

Margin really hated the tears she could feel running down her face just at the thought. That would make it so much harder to drive!

She arrogantly wiped her face on her sleeve and climbed on her bike. Maybe instead she could go to Marina; there was one time, months ago, when she had promised to answer any question Margin might have, to disprove her wild theories about her having an ulterior motive. Perhaps ‘tell me everything you know about what Octavio has done to his soldiers’ was a valid question. Or ‘why did you abandon the octarians’, but Margin was pretty sure she already knew the answer to that one.

She could worry about this later, assuming she didn’t get eaten by a mutant beast. Right now, she had things to do, and _then_ she could deal with the aftermath. Hopefully, finding somewhere to guide a band of misfit monsters to would take a very long time.

The trees were harder to navigate when gravity was trying to pull her directly into the trunk of each one, but as soon as Margin was free from the obstacles, she pushed her bike as fast as it could go. She didn’t dare look away from what was directly in front of her for long, because crashing now would be certain death, but she was sure in the corner of her eye she saw the giant beast turn its head towards the growling of her engine.

_“_ That’s right, follow me! The speedy loud thing!” she yelled, barely able to hear her voice over the bike. As she got near the sparking base of the collapsed spire, the smaller beasts turned their attention fully on her, and she detoured to the side to not be directly in their path. She wanted them to follow her, yes. Catch her? No.

They were fast, but so was she. Margin flashed past where the barrier had previously been with a band of excited yowls chasing after her, not looking back to see if Squidgy was among them. The monsters were following her now, and that was what mattered. She needed to lead them away.

Then the giant one let out its cry again, that horrid mournful sound, and the yowling faded out. The thundering of footsteps began to disappear.

_No, no, no!_

Margin glanced over her shoulder at last, seeing the few beasts that had begun to chase her watching her, stationary, reluctantly turning their heads and following after their leader who hadn’t made any attempt to follow. It was far more interested on what it could sense in the distance.

She slowed her bike to a halt, revving its engine but getting little more response than a few of the smaller ones looking in her direction. “No! _Follow me_ , you _stupid giant_!” Her voice echoed off the empty land, but the giant creature didn’t care. To it, she might as well have been an annoying fly buzzing around.

And Squidgy was there, because she could so easily recognise him among the group, and he hesitated for just a moment longer than the others as he stared after her, recognising her voice – but he, too, sadly lowered his head and plodded after his leader as it continued its trek towards the city.

There was nothing else she could do.

Trying to make it follow her away was all she had, and that hadn’t worked.

But she had to do _something_!

New plan. She would have to do her best to make sure the beasts wouldn’t get to the octolings instead.

Margin took off in a different direction, taking as large a detour as possible and repeatedly glancing back to make sure the beasts weren’t following her this time, but they were too focussed on following the big one, and it knew where it wanted to go. Even so, as she sped along a mostly-unfamiliar path up the mountain, Margin abandoned her bike far from the hotel so it would stop making noise and there was no risk of drawing them closer.

How was she going to explain all this? She had no clue, but hopefully everyone would listen to a warning.

She burst through the door, out of breath and hair writhing with the panic that ran through her veins. An octoling was there – what was her name? She couldn’t remember. Flamingo or something? Ibis. Maybe that was it – looking like she was on her way out, and Margin quickly blocked her way. “No! Don’t—don’t go out, it’s important, follow me.”

“ **Whuh…?** ” Ibis stared at her for a moment, half-baffled half-plain-confused.

_I didn’t say that in octarian._ Margin smacked the side of her own head as if trying to dislodge the inkling language from her brain, and she knew exactly what the _language_ _issues_ mentioned in that log were, because she couldn’t remember ever _learning_ inkling, had just assumed Octavio taught it to her because he knew the language, and she hated how much everything written there seemed so obviously _true_ when she wished to believe it wasn’t. “Just— _arrgh_ **, follow me!** ” She stormed past her towards the common room, relieved beyond belief when the octoling actually followed after her. At least _someone_ did!

A few other octolings were gathered in here, muttering worriedly to one another – they must have heard the spire fall up here, maybe even felt the earth shake as it did, it was a large structure. Margin interrupted their nerves by flinging the door back on its hinges, mostly out of urgency, but it still made most of them jump.

“ **Margin**?” Of _course_ Anten was here, they _always_ showed up whenever she least wanted them to. “ **What are you** —”

“ **Everyone _stay inside_! Stay inside, turn off everything, don’t make _any_ noise and you’ll be safe.**” Her words were supposed to be commanding but her voice shook. She hoped this would be enough. The only place she thought would be _truly_ safe from those things was underground, and she couldn’t drag everyone back to Octavio, not now she knew the truth.

“ **Safe from _what_!?**” Anten stood to face her, tall and intimidating, but for once an actual look of unnerved fear showed on their face. They could tell something was wrong. “ **Margin, _what did you do_**?”

The words made her freeze – because they were right, they were _right_ to suspect this was her fault, she’d wanted this to happen and now there was absolutely nothing she could do to stop it.

And now she knew – she knew Anten had been involved in _everything_ , that they’d simultaneously sat back and let it happen and yet been the only one to try and stop it, and they had _absolutely no idea._

Even more reason for her to hate them, because everything was _unfair_ , but that would be far too much to explain right now and even if she _did_ then everyone would know she’d been wrong all along.

“ **I don’t know** ,” she said eventually, her voice coming out ghostly quiet. “ **I-I don’t—I don’t _know_ , just—if anyone’s in the city, tell them to take shelter, somewhere, I _don’t know_!**” She dug her hands into her hair, ignoring how it stung.

The suspicious look on Anten’s face faded as they realised how distressed she was, how something was actually genuinely concerning her, and they reached out a hand as if to try and console her. “ **Margin—** ”

“ _DON’T TOUCH ME!”_ she yelled, backing away as fast as she could, her foot colliding loudly with the door. “ **Don’t touch me**!” she repeated again, her voice and hands and arms and everything shaking uncontrollably. “ **Not you, especially not you, not after _everything_ you did and you got to _forget_ _everything_!**”

A fresh look of panic and confusion flashed through their eyes. “ **Everything… I did** …?” Margin couldn’t decide if it was good or bad that they sounded genuine. At least they hadn’t been hiding things from her all this time too, if Octavio had really successfully wiped their memory. “ **Margin, what—did you find something out, what did—when— _what_ did I _do_?**”

She couldn’t take it anymore. Margin shook her head, almost colliding with the open door behind her as she ran.

Her only option was to do something about this, because otherwise she would have to stay here, and that meant she would have to _explain_ things, and trying to find some way to save even a few people, even if they were inklings, would be a much better use of her time.

“ **Margin**!”

She’d only just made it back out of the front door when a voice made her stop, the only one that could possibly make her _stop_ instead of just ignoring them and running as fast and far as she could.

Miles was in the shadows of the doorframe, one hand resting against the door as if he were ready to slam it shut in defence if necessary. He stood there, watching her, a scared look on his face, looking for the answers she didn’t want to give him. He’d _known_ this was a bad idea the second he found out about it and she hadn’t listened, she’d threatened him into keeping quiet, all because she was too blinded by a lie.

She really, really hated _everything_ right now.

“ **There’s… a giant monster heading into the city, and a bunch of smaller ones,** ” she eventually said, simply, not adding on the obvious part about how this was all her fault. “ **Stay inside and stay quiet, because they’re attracted to sound and I don’t want them to find this place.** ”

**“Are you… going to help them? The monsters?”** Miles’ voice was small, wary, like he was suspecting how she really felt but couldn’t quite work out why she would have changed her mind.

“ **No. I’m going to try and stop them. Somehow.** ” Margin turned around, unable to face him as her heart burned with shame. “ **You were right. I’m sorry. I… should have listened to you, I guess.** ”

Miles was silent – for so long that Margin had to glance back because she thought he’d left. He was still there, a look of shock on his face, because he hadn’t expected her to apologise. “ **What are you going to do?”**

**“I don’t know! _Something_!” **Margin threw her hands in the air, feeling completely useless. “ **Try and distract them, I don’t know! Just— _you_ make sure everyone stays safe**.” She didn’t know if that was a command he would listen to, and by all means he had no obligation to do anything _she_ said anymore, but Miles was smart and cared about people and she knew he would do whatever he could whether she ordered him around or not.

She didn’t stick around any longer to give pointless commands, everyone knew there was _danger_ , it was time she did something to try and get rid of it.

If only she had any idea what one tiny octoling could do.

* * *

After a night of waking up in a cold sweat every few hours, Faye finally accepted that her sleep was not going to be free of stress dreams, and lay in bed staring at the ceiling until she finally heard movement from outside the room – and then waited even longer until she heard Pearl say something in her loud Pearl voice, just to make sure her father wasn’t the only one up.

She’d had an entire day to try and adjust, to get over this completely irrational fear, but the most she’d succeeded in was feeling a _little_ safer when she was in this room. Pearl’s father didn’t seem too worried about meeting the person staying in the spare room of his house, much to Faye’s relief, and whenever someone did knock on the door it was always Marina, offering to bring her food or water or checking that Faye’s injuries were healing well.

“Tournament starts soon,” Marina reminded her when she delivered the regular morning glass of water. “You want to watch with us? Or I can set up the television in here.”

“Sure. Thanks.”

“… To which?”

“Oh. Here.” Faye tried not to dwell too much on the little amused twitch Marina’s hair made.

“Okay! I’ll do that,” she nodded. “We’re not doing anything special for breakfast, but I can get you some cereal or toast or fruit or something if you want.”

Faye wasn’t particularly hungry, but after eating a decent amount for the past few days she knew her body would give her consequences if she refused. “An apple or something would be fine. Thanks.”

“Are you okay?” The question felt a little jarring, but Faye hated knowing Marina could _tell_ something was wrong. “You were so insistent on going to get your own food until yesterday.”

“Yeah. Sorry. I can get it myself, it’s fine,” Faye muttered, not wanting to be rude or have Marina do anything for her, and moved to get up.

“No, no, it’s alright, that’s not what I meant.” Marina made a vague motion as if to block her way, but quickly realised that was unnecessary. Going to get an apple from the kitchen wasn’t dangerous, or at least it wouldn’t be in Marina’s mind. “Was it Pearl’s dad? He’s a decent enough squid, I promise. Maybe not the _greatest_ father in the world, but… he’s trying.”

That didn’t do much to reassure her, and if anything made the problem _worse_ , but Faye really did not want to try and explain all of this to Marina. “I’m fine. It’s alright.” She forced herself to stand, glad the stinging in her leg was starting to lessen by now. Perhaps going down to the kitchen with Marina would be okay; it wasn’t like she needed the octoling to protect her or anything, but at least that significantly lessened the chances of Faye having a solo encounter with Pearl’s father.

“Well…” Marina hesitated, and for a moment Faye thought she was going to insist she stay right here. “If you’re sure. He doesn’t tend to leave his study much anyway.”

Faye felt one of her ears flick irritably, partially out of realising she’d been hiding in this room all the time for nothing (though really, it wasn’t as if there was a threat), and partially because Marina had seen right through her. She tried her best, she really did, to push aside the twinge of humiliation that made her feel, especially when Marina was one of the people who had seemed to respect her the most as Agent 3.

The house was quieter today without Eight here, and as Faye made her way down the stairs to where Marina waited for her – she didn’t have to do that, but Faye didn’t want to make a fuss – all she could hear was the sound of the television in the living room, which currently was broadcasting the weather report. Marina didn’t need to point out the fruit bowl in the kitchen today since Faye clearly knew where it was, and wandered off on a slight detour on her way to set up the television as she’d promised. Faye wasn’t too fussed; it wasn’t as if it was urgent. She plucked an average-looking apple from the bowl, hearing Marina make a comment to her girlfriend in the other room. “Really, Pearl? Pancakes _again_?”

“Hey, if you want waffles you gotta call dibs on the kitchen!”

Rolling her eyes and wondering just how Pearl could stomach all those pancakes two days in a row, and if she’d only made everyone else eat them yesterday because Eight had been visiting, Faye decided she didn’t quite fancy crossing the house to an empty room by herself yet, and peered into the living room. Fortunately there was nobody other than Pearl and Marina there, and Marina was already on her way out another door to go and fulfil her prior offer.

Pearl was more aware of her surroundings than Faye gave her credit for, and quickly noticed her hovering by the door. “Mornin’! Concert’s gonna start in just a moment. I do not envy Callie an’ Marie, ‘cuz if I had to sing a whole concert and _then_ commentate, like, a bajillion matches, I don’t think I’d be able to speak for a week.”

“That _would_ be a tragedy,” Faye managed to summon the energy for a joke as she slunk into the room, taking a temporary seat on one of the many sofas, not directly next to Pearl but not rudely far away. There were far too many sofas in here for a place where it sounded like a grand total of two to three people usually resided at any one time.

“I know. And it _is_! I lost my voice for a whole _day_ after blasting out that statue. It was worth it, of course, but it still _sucked_!”

Faye tuned Pearl’s voice out, taking a large bite from her relatively small apple as she watched what was happening on the television. An inkling was announcing the day’s events, someone she didn’t recognise and who was probably vastly outshined by the more popular reporters Faye was currently in the abode of. As they were speaking, the crowd behind them in the stadium began to cheer and wave, a sure sign that the idols they’d been waiting for had emerged from backstage – or whatever the equivalent of backstage was in a basketball court.

She thought about Marie, caught a glimpse of a blurry white-and-green shape from somewhere behind the reporter, and when the cameras were switched to the Squid Sisters everyone had tuned in for, Faye had to suppress a sigh. She still felt bad for having to miss the concert, even if watching on a screen where she could control the volume was probably going to be a much more bearable experience for her. Hopefully Marie wasn’t too disappointed. There were hundreds of fans there, after all; one less wouldn’t make much difference.

While Faye was lost in her own thoughts, something strange and out of place caught her attention – a distant sound, a slight shudder she felt, like a building collapsing in the distance. Something _big_.

That was odd. Was something getting demolished nearby? Was that a thing that was usually announced or did a building crew just go ahead and do it without warning the neighbours? It had sounded quite far off, but if they were in the part of the city Faye _thought_ they were in, not in the direction of the city centre and more off towards the mountains…

“Did you hear that?” she asked once she’d swallowed her mouthful of apple.

Pearl glanced over her with a raised eyebrow. “Uh… did Callie mispronounce a word in her intro or somethin’?”

“No, no, not on the TV. It sounded like… something big falling. Do you know if there’s any construction happening today…?”

“I ‘unno. Maybe?” Pearl gave an overzealous shrug, showing she wasn’t nearly as concerned. Her ears were small enough to be covered by her hair; perhaps her hearing wasn’t quite as good as Faye’s, and Pearl tended to shuffle around a lot, so she might not have noticed the ground shake. “I ain’t heard of anything planned, but it’s probably nothing.”

Faye did not feel like it was nothing. “Yeah,” she said anyway, biting off as much of the rest of the apple as she could before leaving to toss the core and see if she’d have any better luck with Marina.

Her senses felt even more heightened than usual as she navigated her way back to the spare room, and the sound of the television quietly inside made her double-guess for a moment before she remembered that was what Marina went in here to do. The concert was beginning now, with the calm tune of a song Faye couldn’t remember if she’d heard before or not, and she forced herself to not get distracted watching Marie on the screen. “Marina, did you hear something just now? Or—feel?”

“Hm? Uhh, maybe, I was watching the screen – I haven’t seen a Squid Sisters concert in a while,” Marina said with a sheepish grin. “Why, what happened?”

“It felt like something collapsed. Like… something big. A building or something. I don’t know.” Faye’s ears twitched, and she had the feeling there was some kind of strange noise she was hearing, something that didn’t belong with the background music on the television. “Can you—sorry, could you mute it for a second?”

Marina did give the concert a slightly reluctant glance, but she helpfully turned off the sound. Faye was already climbing over the mattress, wincing as her injured leg brushed the sheets, on her way to the window. There was a lock on it, but it had been unlocked on one of the first days Faye had been here, so she could open it if she needed more fresh air, and opening the latch was easy enough. At first Faye couldn’t tell if she was hearing the television downstairs, but there was a muffled cheering that seemed to carry on the air from the crowd at the concert, something that was mostly silenced for the streamed version.

Then there was another sound, distant but clear – a loud, high-pitched, whining-groan noise, like the cry of a whalefolk.

Whatever made that noise couldn’t have been a whalefolk, though. It was far too loud. There was also the very slight hint of another sound, a growl maybe, and that made Faye’s blood run cold.

It couldn’t be the monster that had attacked her in the valley cabin. Could it?

That creature had been big, but not big enough to knock over something that would cause such a tremor.

“What _was_ that…?” Marina’s words sounded distant in a different way as Faye continued to listen, but listening wasn’t helping. “Is someone playing one of the whale albums really loudly in their garden or somethi— _Faye_!?”

Without another thought, Faye shrank into squid form and hopped out the open window.

She was on the second floor of the building, but she was able to slip down the shingles of the porch below the window, taking the slightly faster and less disgusting route of sliding down the wall to slow her fall instead of taking the gutter pipe. The ground still felt like it came at her a little fast, throwing her back into inkling form from the shock of the force hitting her, but she swiftly pushed herself up off the paved driveway, even though her leg stung from the transformation. Where to now? She needed a vantage point.

“Faye! What are you _doing_!?” Marina shouted from the window that framed her, and she pushed it open a little wider as if she was considering climbing out after her.

“I need to see what’s making that noise!” Faye called back, not waiting. Marina could follow her if she felt so inclined, but Faye was capable of handling things on her own. She _had_ to be.

The neighbourhood Pearl lived in was completely unfamiliar to Faye, who hardly spent her time in the rich people hills, but that said they were on a _hill_ and quite close to the top of it, which was very convenient right now. Faye ran for the first time in days, feeling her limbs protest but not daring to slow down, and it didn’t take her long to reach the highest part of the sloping road, where the street began to angle back down ahead of her, giving a view of the mountains in the distance.

And a view of the thing that absolutely should not have been there.

An absolutely _massive_ beast towered over the buildings and trees, the biggest creature Faye had ever seen, and it was heading towards the city.

It felt like her heart stopped. Her breathing certainly had.

What _was_ that thing!?

She knew what it was; it was whatever had attacked her a few days ago but _so_ _much_ _bigger_ , and so much more dangerous. The one she’d seen before had been capable of tearing the cabin apart just with its own strength, so one this size would be capable of a _lot_ more damage.

And if her theory was correct, and the one hunting her down before had been relying on sound, it would be heading for whatever was making the most noise…

Faye almost didn’t hear the footsteps behind her, but she was aware they were there. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from what she was looking at in the distance. It seemed so unreal, like a hallucination, and she really hoped Marina would just ask her what she was doing standing at the top of this hill looking at nothing and prove the monster she was watching didn’t _really_ exist.

“Oh… oh my _goodness_.” No such luck. When Faye finally looked away, at Marina instead, the octoling was staring into the distance with an expression of pure horror. “What _is_ that!?”

Faye couldn’t answer that question.

Pearl was running up the hill after them, her curiosity overpowering her desire to watch the concert, but when she reached the top she halted so suddenly she almost tripped. “ _Holy fucking shit_ what the _fuck_ am I looking at right now!?” Her mouth gaped as her wide-eyed gaze switched to Faye. “Is _that_ the thing that attacked you!?”

“No! No, that one wasn’t the size of a fucking _building_!” Faye snapped back. “It’s heading for the city, I have to _do_ _something_ to stop it!”

“You!?” Marina gave her a stunned glance. “Faye, you’re still injured! You don’t have to do anything.”

“But I _have_ _to_!” She couldn’t just sit around and do _nothing_. Maybe if she’d made more of a fuss when that thing attacked her before, if she’d guessed there might be more of them, or that one of them would’ve been an absolute _colossus_ … “What else are we going to do, call the police!? They won’t be able to do anything about it either, and it’s not like we have an army anymore!”

“Okay—okay, I know, you’re right, but it’s so…” Marina looked to the creature in the distance, which was getting closer by the second, and bit her lip. “What would you even be able to do?”

“I don’t know. Try to distract it from getting into the arena, I guess! That’s probably what it’s going towards. The noise.”

“That thing would eat you alive!” Pearl pointed out, waving her arms in its general direction. “ _Hello_! Are we not looking at the same _Codzilla_ here!?”

“Then I guess I’ll just make sure it doesn’t do that!” Faye threw her hands in the air.

“I don’t think there’s anything you can do – and I don’t think you should put yourself in danger,” Marina told her, and Faye was about to round on her before she continued. “But if you’re really that sure… I can at least take you nearer to Goby Arena. We’ll try and do everything we can to help.”

“We will?” Pearl blinked at her in surprise for a moment; then cleared her throat. “I mean, yeah, we will! We’re, like, totally super cool heroes too. Remember when I stopped a statue from destroying the city? Yeah.”

Faye decided to tactfully ignore Pearl, like she often did. “Thank you.”

She had no idea what she was going to do, no idea what she _could_ do, no idea if her day was going to end by being mauled to death by a giant monster, but what she _did_ know was that no matter how long it had been since her last actual mission, she was still Agent 3.

Agent 3 could not stand by and do nothing when everyone was in danger.

* * *

This was the first time Jake had been to an official non-Splatfest concert, and while he wasn’t too keen on the enclosed feeling he got from having so many strangers sitting around him, the atmosphere was more than enough to make up for that. It was _amazing_ watching Callie and Marie perform live, with the cheer of the crowds and the beat of the music pulsing through his body and filling him with so much energy he just wanted to jump up and dance, which was unfortunately not something he could do in the seating area of Goby Arena. The stage was little more than a few spotlights highlighting the idols on the middle of the court, since this place would immediately be needed for a match after, but the team had done a very good job with what they had, and the makeshift stage didn’t damage the experience at all.

He immediately recognised the opening notes of Fresh Start, the Squid Sisters’ most recent single and, as Jake had learned, the one they’d made shortly after his brother rescued Callie from Octavio. Callie had sneakily told Jake that when they first started recording it for release, Marie had struggled to get through the whole song without crying, which was incredibly unusual for her – but, as Jake now knew, was very understandable considering how much stress the octarian situation must have put her under. She didn’t seem to have that problem now, and both of them were grinning brightly when the first song finished and they addressed the audience, hyping everyone up for both the rest of their set list and the finals which were going to start immediately after.

Ink Me Up was next, leading smoothly into their cover of Now or Never, one of their most energetic dances. Jake swung his legs under the chair, bopping his head along to the music, and almost didn’t notice the short vibration of his phone which he _thought_ he’d turned off before the concert but apparently not. The whole event was being streamed and filming the concert was illegal, so he took his phone out very briefly to check whether the message was important (probably not, Rollo and Callie were both here in the building and neither of them would’ve had the ability to send him a text) and turn it off. It was, for some reason, a message from Miles. Jake hadn’t heard from him in ages, and was about to decide he could wait a few more hours until his quick glance at the screen caught the message preview, and _that_ was enough to determine it important.

[11:13] There are dangerous monsters heading towards the city do not go outside

[11:13] there’s what???

[11:13] dangerous monsters

[11:13] margin is going to try and stop them but I don’t think she can

[11:13] if you stay inside and quiet you might be safe

[11:13] uhhhh I’m at the league concert it’s not exactly quiet here

[11:14] oh no

[11:14] please see if you can get people out

[11:14] I think they go to sound

[11:14] I can try??

That was a worrying message to get, and one that sent Jake’s heart racing as he tried to think what _dangerous_ _beasts_ could mean. Octarians? But Miles was an octoling, and despite being relatively new at the inkling language he probably wouldn’t refer to them as ‘monsters’. There was a beast guard around the city; anything mutated by the residual radiation left by the ancient humans shouldn’t be able to get through.

Unless it was big. Jake had seen a big one before, even if Rollo refused to believe it. But if his own brother didn’t believe something he’d seen, how was he supposed to get a few hundred strangers to listen to him, in the middle of a concert?

Well… his brother was a good start, at least. Both the finalist teams had the closest possible view of the concert, in the glass-windowed seating right next to the middle of the court, with one team on each side, and from the angle he was at, Jake could best see the one Team Geode was in. He tried waving to catch the attention of his brother, but the motion was lost in the crowd, especially when he didn’t even know if Rollo had seen where he was in the audience – and his brother was distracted by saying something to Harper, who had her face pressed up against the glass as if she were trying to phase through it and get closer to the idols.

Okay, long-distance support wasn’t happening, so he’d just have to try and get to him instead.

Fortunately Jake wasn’t too far from the edge of the seat row, but trying to get past a single person was far too difficult and after the first irritated grunt he only just heard over the music, he shrank into squid form and hopped along that way instead, reforming next to the stairs. The calming tunes of Maritime Memory didn’t do much to help settle his nerves as he raced down into the hallways, realising he had no idea how to get to where his brother was and the best he could do was make an educated guess based on the shape of the building. The threat of ‘there’s some kind of unknown monster heading towards you and you need to save an entire building full of people somehow’ was not the responsibility he expected or wanted to have today.

After running through the corridors and realising with relief that there actually were signs for navigation, even if many of them were words he didn’t understand the meaning of without much knowledge of sport stadiums, Jake finally located the far seating area. A man in security gear was stood outside the door, easily noticing Jake running towards him. “What’s wrong, kid?”

“I—I need to…” Jake started, out of breath. Running across a large building with a binder on was as terrible an idea as ever, it seemed. “I need to… speak to Rollo… he’s my brother, it’s _important_.”

“Gonna have to wait until after. Communication with either team isn’t allowed before the match; to prevent misconduct, you understand.”

“But it’s _important_!” Jake repeated, realising he had no way to explain how his brother specifically would be able to help without revealing info about the New Squidbeak Splatoon. Eight was here, too, across the building, but he was even less likely to be able to speak to her. “There’s something on its way here, something _dangerous_!”

“… Something.” The guard gave him a blank look, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t know! Something—something that freaked out my friend enough to warn me to get everyone out of here.” Jake realised how ridiculous this sounded. He was not going to be able to sway this stubborn guard. All he could do was try to get his brother’s attention and hope that worked things out. “ _Rollo_!”

“Okay, kid, that’s _enough_.” The guard stepped forward, causing Jake to back away because this was a rather burly man who would be easily capable of overpowering him. “Don’t make me call backup in here to throw you out.”

Apparently yelling worked, because a moment later the door swung open, and Rollo appeared, looking concerned. “What’s—Jake, what’s wrong?”

“I must ask you to return to the viewing room, sir—”

“Rollo, there’s something coming here, something dangerous!” Jake tried to speak over the guard. He was not very successful.

“— as we cannot have _outside_ _communication_ giving you advantages in the league matches,” the security guard finished insistently, giving Jake a stern glare.

“Then _you_ listen to everything he says too,” Rollo responded simply. “Jake wouldn’t leave a concert to pester me if it wasn’t important. What’s up, bro?”

“There’s something heading for the stadium,” Jake said, struggling to keep his voice loud enough to be heard while the security guard was still staring him down, clearly not approving of this at all but less inclined to argue with one of the players. “I don’t know what exactly, but I got a message from Miles, an-and he said it was ‘dangerous monsters’ of some kind, so I think something might have gotten through the beast guard.”

To his horror, Rollo’s expression turned to one of scepticism, and he sighed. “Jakey, I know you think there are big monsters out in the desert, but this is _Inkopolis_. Miles is just a kid. It’s probably just his imagination, or… something…”

The ground shuddered.

The concert was loud enough to drown out most sound, but there was a definite noise from somewhere else, something _loud_ and outside, a cry that sounded almost whale-like.

That wasn’t the cry of something small.

“Or Miles was completely right and we are all in danger,” Rollo changed his tune suddenly. He turned on the security guard. “You. How many guards do you have?”

“I—uh—” The guard looked a lot less confident suddenly. “Um—four. One guarding each team and, uh, two on the entrance to the arena so nobody enters the stage during the concert.”

“Really? That’s _all_? Oh, that is… not many security guards,” Rollo clapped his hands together. “Hmm. This is… bad.”

“I’ll—I’ll contact the others!” The guard ran off without another word, making a noise with his radio as he left to speak somewhere nobody would overhear the alarming news.

That just left Jake and Rollo, here in a doorway, exchanging a stunned glance.

“What now?” Jake asked, hoping his brother could use all his Agent 4 skills to think of something.

“That, uh… is a very good question,” Rollo said with an unhelpful nod. “We… see what happens, I guess? Maybe it’s not as dangerous as it sounds. We’re in a building, after all. There’s giant metal walls protecting us. So… nobody panic?”

* * *

The final beats of Calamari Inkantation played out, and the crowd went wild as the Squid Sisters held their pose for a moment. Both of them grinned brightly, exhausted but energized, as they waved to everyone watching in the packed arena. Almost every seat was full. Four and Eight were going to have a lot of eyes watching them in this first match.

After giving a final bow, the two of them backed out of the spotlights at last, still visible to the crowds and having to remain upbeat as they left the open arena but much less prominent in the room. Marie pressed the button on the mic attached to her dress, tapping it just to make sure she’d done it correctly and it was off. “Phew. What a rush.”

Callie made sure to double-check her own mic due to past experiences, and then managed to still do an excited hop as they walked towards the exit by one of the ramps. “That was _incredible_! It’s been too long since we last did a concert together. I feel like I could do the whole thing again!”

“Whatever training you’ve been doing for this, I definitely needed it,” Marie said with a breathless laugh. She wasn’t looking forward to commentating up to nine whole matches. _Four, I need you to completely dominate the other team or get absolutely thrashed. Either will work._

“Aw, come on, I know you were enjoying yourself. I can tell when you’re genuinely smiling, you ninny.” Callie nudged Marie’s arm in a way that was gentle, for her standards. “I’m sorry Faye couldn’t make it.”

“Yeah, well,” Marie shrugged. “It’s fine. Maybe she’s been watching on gramps’ ancient television or something.” She was doing her best to not be hurt about it, especially when Faye hadn’t said a word to her since.

“Hah! Maybe.” Callie skipped forward a few steps. “… Jake left at some point. I saw him earlier, but his seat was empty for our last song. I hope it wasn’t too much for him.”

“Maybe he needed to use the bathroom or something.” Marie decided not to poke fun at her for pinpointing one specific person in the crowd; Jake suddenly vanishing was a little odd, especially when their concert wasn’t more than half an hour long, and Marie could understand Callie’s concern. There wasn’t anything they could do right now though; they needed to get to their destination so the games could continue, and Marie could already feel the exhaustion hitting her. “I really should have worked out more. It feels like the ground’s shaking.”

“Haha—wait. No.” Callie stopped walking. “No, I feel it too. I’m not _that_ tired! I think. I hope?” She gave Marie a worried look. “Do I look tired?”

“Callie, we just did an entire concert.” Marie rolled her eyes.

As the cheering of the crowd started to peter out, though, another noise took over. A loud and strange and high-pitched noise.

Then an ear-splitting _BANG_ echoed throughout the whole arena, like something large had hit the roof.

Marie jumped, now frozen to the spot. That didn’t seem good. She threw an alarmed look at Callie, but her cousin was watching the top of the arena with much the same expression.

“ _Everyone please remain calm and leave your seating in an orderly fashion_ ,” a not-quite-so-calm voice unexpectedly stated over the speaker. “ _Unfortunately the match has been interrupted by a mild security threat, but we are working to deal with_ —”

The broadcast was interrupted by another horrendous noise as a section of the arena roof caved in, sending metal bars crashing to the ground and cutting out the power to the central monitors.

A second later, the sunlight from the gap was blocked out, and terrifying creatures poured in, swarming down through the few supports that still held up and screeching out blood-chilling cries as they descended on the helpless people below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh no (the sequel)  
> well at least everyone is going to have a fun and eventful day and can say that they were a part of something :)


	32. Unsung Heroes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warnings: road accidents, mild blood/injury

“Do you really need to have the television so loud? I thought _I_ was the deaf one here.”

“Then it’s not _loud_!” Ilia pouted and snatched the remote they were reaching for. “Come on, Andi, it’s the _Squid Sisters_! They haven’t done a concert in ages.” Harper and Eight were both there watching the concert live, and Ilia would be lying if she said she wasn’t jealous, but both of them had thoroughly earned their way there, fighting to the finals of the tournament.

Andi sighed and rolled their eyes. “Fine.” They took their hearing aids out, getting up to return them to the charging dock in their room. They never had been a particularly big fan of music, but at least they’d agreed to watch the tournament with Ilia on their day off.

Ilia still had slightly mixed opinions on the Squid Sisters; she loved their music, and they seemed like nice people (although really, everyone seemed nice on television), but she’d moved from Inkopolis right when they were rising to fame, and for an entire _year_ after joining a new local school she’d had people asking if she was related to them. The monochrome gene was kind of rare, and suddenly two of them had risen to massive popularity in the place she’d grown up. Part of her wondered if she _was_ distantly related somehow, but it’d probably be one of those relations with far too many words in it if that was the case, so it wasn’t something she could use for clout. At least her hair colour had become a distraction from the _other_ incredibly obvious thing people would point out about her.

She was back in Inkopolis now, though, because her father had gotten promoted again, and with his late hours and her grades starting to fall, he’d decided along with her aunt and uncle that the best thing for her to do would be to move back to Inkopolis and live with them and her cousin instead. Moving to a new school _again_ had sure been something, but at least it didn’t feel like she was living in solitude anymore, and Harper already seemed to have forgotten she’d ever left. She’d made new friends since moving back here, too, which was something she hadn’t expected to happen so fast; Inkopolis was just a friendly place by nature.

As if her phone had detected her thinking about friends, it buzzed against the coffee table. Ilia’s ears twitched as she reached to pick it up, knowing it couldn’t be Harper because she most likely didn’t have her phone on her if she was about to fight in a tournament match.

It was from Miles. She hadn’t heard from him much recently, and she hadn’t seen him in person at all since that encounter with Margin; Ilia didn’t know what was going on in his life, but she knew what abuse looked like, and she wished she could find some way to get him away from his aggressive ‘friend’.

[11:12] theres something dangerous heading for the city please stay inside and quiet if you can

That was a very strange message to receive.

[11:12] what’s going on are you okay??

[11:12] im okay

[11:12] please be careful

[11:12] okay, thanks for the warning??

Ilia had absolutely no idea what that was about; _something_ _dangerous_? What did that mean? It wasn’t like she planned on going out today in the first place. She wondered for a moment if he was talking about Margin, but he probably wouldn’t have referred to her as a _thing_. Either way, Ilia was safe here in her aunt and uncle’s apartment, on the second floor of a building.

For the rest of the concert, she didn’t think too much into it – but turned the volume on the television down by a little bit, just in case. Andi returned after a few minutes, bringing their laptop with them to write or browse or whatever they did while the concert was on. After the Calamari Inkantation ended, the reporter she couldn’t remember the name of announced that the matches were going to begin shortly, and the camera remained on the Squid Sisters as they waved to the audience until they were out of the spotlight.

A moment later there was a loud noise. The camera sweeping the audience shuddered, and the audio went silent.

Then something happened, something hard to decipher without sound but what looked like part of the ceiling collapsing – and the broadcast went blank.

“Uh.” Okay. That seemed unintended and potentially not good. Ilia nudged her cousin’s arm, causing Andi to look at her with a ‘what now?’ glance. She opened her mouth to speak, remembered they’d taken their hearing aids out, and instead struggled to remember the sign for ‘ _something bad happened’_ with her one hand, then pointed to the television.

The video footage had gone back to the reporter, who also looked concerned and confused. “Okay, erm—there appear to be some… technical difficulties. We’ll cut to an ad break while this is sorted out, and we should be back with the tournament… soon?”

Then the league logo appeared on screen as the people in charge of the broadcast caught up.

That left Ilia there, sitting on her couch with a static screen in front of her, wondering what on earth had just happened. It definitely didn’t look like a ‘ _technical difficulty_ ’. All she could do was hope everyone there would be okay.

* * *

Throughout all of her time spent on the surface, there was one rule in particular of Marina’s that Margin had not put a second thought into but never actually broken; Marina didn’t want her riding her bike into the city.

Getting down here was fine, a new path for her to take but a relatively easy one, but in the time it took her to run up to the hotel and then back to the motorbike which she’d left some distance away, the giant beast had gained a massive lead on her. It had almost vanished into the city now, only barely visible through the buildings in the distance and from the trail of destruction and fear the creatures had left behind them.

Crossing the bridge into the city was easy; one straight road all the way there. Once Margin was past that, everything became a million times more terrifying, and she realised, immediately, why Marina had made that rule.

There were so many _obstacles_ , every path was surrounded by barricades of very tall and very solid-looking buildings and so many _other_ _vehicles_ on the roads! Margin could feel her hearts pounding in her chest as she weaved between the moving objects, having to take a detour because all the traffic had completely stopped in the wake of the monsters and created a huge blockade, and she had _no_ _idea_ where she was going and every now and then she’d narrowly avoid the corner of a truck or the bumper of a car and they would make an awful loud sound that almost made her lose her balance.

_AAAAARGH how do people DRIVE in the CITY!?_

She turned a corner to put herself in the right direction, towards where the beasts were, and immediately there was a horrific _screech_ of tires as a car had its brakes slammed on. It didn’t stop fast enough to miss her completely, and it caught her back wheel, lurching the whole thing to the side.

Margin only just had good enough of a reaction time to pull herself into octopus form as she was flung off, and the shock of hitting the ground at such a speed blasted her out of it again. The ground was hard and gritty and when she finally stopped rolling and sliding she felt like half her leg had been torn off, but she forced herself to get back up despite her body’s protests.

It hurt, and her leg was bleeding in various places, but it wasn’t serious. She ran for where her bike lay, its engine still revving and the frame probably now donning a lot of extra scrapes as well, and pulled it back up. She couldn’t stop. She had to keep going.

The half-concerned-half-angry yelling of the crab driving the car was drowned out by the roar of her engine as she sped away.

Margin didn’t know where Goby Arena was, but she was using the logic of the beasts and trying to head in the direction where things sounded the loudest. There was a lot of screaming from one way in particular, and she hoped the mutants hadn’t managed to catch too many people.

_That’s the exact opposite of what you wanted before._

She tried to force away the doubt. Surely this was the right thing to do now?

_What_ was the right thing to do? What was she even _going to_ _do_?

The one thing that tipped her off that she was definitely heading in the right direction was one of the smaller beasts bursting from an alley in front of her.

Margin yelled in fright and swerved to avoid crashing directly into it; it lashed out and narrowly missed slashing at either her or her tires with its claws. She didn’t have time to get too good a look at it, but it was thin and bony and had a crocodilian-looking jaw that she didn’t want to get caught by, and that was all she needed to know.

It had also now decided that she was its prey, and it yowled and raced after her bike.

This again!

Careful navigation had to be thrown away immediately for an escape route. She hadn’t been able to outspeed the beasts for long on open flat ground, and the city’s roads were so much _worse_. Not to mention all the screams of fear as people saw the monster chasing after her, and right now, Margin couldn’t decide if it was a good or bad thing that it didn’t decide to go after any of those noises instead.

Its snarls were close behind her as she weaved around a few cars, which Margin barely noticed had nobody in them. People had (hopefully) ran away here, abandoning their vehicles in favour of the sturdier nearby buildings, but that did also mean there were obstacles in the streets, and a motorcycle wasn’t good at obstacles, not while moving at top speed. Margin weaved around as best she could, swerving onto the empty pavement instead because nobody was foolish enough to be out on the street right now.

She noticed, a little too late, that one of the tall store windows ahead had been smashed. Shards of glass were littered on the pavement in front, and she couldn’t avoid the one that tore through her front tire and ripped off a chunk of the rubber.

It was loud, a warning, and then the shriek and sparks of the metal wheel frame against the concrete floor – that was enough for Margin to change form, with just the time to push away from her seat before the bike could throw her off again.

It was still a rough landing, but she held her octo form this time, despite hitting the ground and with the residual pain from transforming so soon after an injury. Her bike skidded along the ground, eventually crashing into a streetlamp with a loud _wham_ but not enough force to damage it – but after being shaken around so much, the engine finally cut out. The beast chased after it, the biggest target, but it wasn’t going to be long before it realised it was made of metal.

Margin slid under a nearby car to escape, popping out the other side because she knew a mechanical object full of fuel was not a good place to hide from a powerful beast that could easily crush it, and ran for her life. She didn’t know where she was going now; she couldn’t outrun that thing without her bike.

What was she supposed to do against the giant one if she couldn’t even deal with one of these!?

She could hear it running after her now, bored of the metal chew toy, snarling and howling at having something else to chase. Her only hope for now was a nearby alleyway where hopefully it would be harder for the thing to move.

Then another beast burst out of it and her heart sank, her escape route cut off—

The recognition flooded through her as the beast ran towards her.

_Squidgy!_

He jumped – and she ducked back down into octo form, because he’d gone with the giant beast earlier, any loyalty he had to her had been overpowered by it, because the giant beast was a colossal monster capable of crushing him under one foot whereas Margin was a small octoling.

But he wasn’t lunging for her. Squidgy landed squarely on the other monster’s shoulders, throwing it to the hard ground and stopping it in its tracks. It battered him off, clawing at his legs and side as it tried to get away and chase after its prey, but Squidgy was quick and darted between it and her, making a fierce and angry snarling noise.

Margin had never heard a sound like that from him before.

The beast snapped at him and Squidgy lashed out with his sharp claws, slicing its snout. It yelped and backed away, its eyes resting on Margin for a brief moment as if it were deciding whether it was worth trying to fight when there were a lot of other non-guarded victims around for it to prey on instead.

A cry from the giant beast echoed through the streets, and it finally gave up, scrambling away to follow after its leader.

Squidgy turned his head to follow the sound for a moment, letting out that quiet distressed whine – he knew the giant was calling him, but he didn’t want to follow. He gave himself a fierce shake, causing some of his fin-like appendages to slap against his side, and turned to Margin instead with a quiet huff.

The first thing she did was throw her arms around his thick, scaly neck and give him a hug. “Squidgy, you came _back_!” He smelled as disgusting as usual, like old water and rotten food, but she was just glad he was _here_ and sticking by her and that she wasn’t being torn to pieces right now. Not used to this kind of interaction, Squidgy let out a slightly confused warble, but he stayed in place, nudging her back with his snout.

There was no time to waste with hugs, though. Margin waited a second after letting him go, just to see what he would do, if he would abandon her again in favour of his fearsome leader, but he just tilted his head to one side as if questioning her inactivity and let out a quiet grumble. A relieved grin spread across Margin’s face, her first smile since emerging back onto the surface. Maybe she did stand a chance after all, with him at her side.

“Come on, buddy, let’s go.” She patted his side, looking around for a moment as she got her bearings on which direction to go – and letting her gaze rest forlornly on her bike, which _might_ be salvageable but not without a new wheel and there was no time for that right now.

Soon working out which direction the arena was in just from the sound, Margin took off running, with Squidgy galloping along just behind her. She couldn’t run nearly as fast as her bike could go, but at least if she tripped and fell it’d be a lot less dangerous than falling off her bike. All she could do was hope the giant beast wouldn’t do too much damage with the head start it had.

* * *

Waiting around was so _aggravating_ , and as Faye paced back and forth by Pearl’s front door, she kept reminding herself that waiting for Marina to give her a lift would still be a lot faster than if she tried to run all the way herself, and also made her a lot less likely to collapse when she got there. That would be an especially bad thing today.

Faye had absolutely no idea what she was getting herself into, but she knew she had to do _something_. There were hundreds of people in that stadium – including Marie.

She didn’t know what she’d do if anything happened to Marie.

Her instinct had been to rush back to her room, pick up her phone and see if she could call or text her, but Marie wasn’t going to have her phone on in the middle of a concert – or if she _did_ , she very obviously wouldn’t be able to check it. So, there was no way to warn her from so far away. Instead, Faye had prepared the best she could, which was just changing into her hero runners because they were less worn than her regular shoes and clipping her heroshot to her belt, along with a handful of special cans.

“You’re taking a _gun_!?” Marina exclaimed once she was _finally_ ready to leave. It hadn’t been that long, really, but Faye knew that _thing_ was moving and moving fast, and it would have gotten a massive head start on them by now.

“Oh, yes, let me just go and face a freaky monster completely unarmed!” Faye responded incredulously, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She wanted to get moving already!

“I mean, I guess you’re right, but—you know weapons aren’t allowed in the city.”

“Then I’ll make sure nobody sees me with it. Let’s _go_!”

Riding in the sidecar of Marina’s motorbike felt less exciting this time. Faye spent the whole ride trying to work out where the monster was now, because it was out of sight and maybe there was a chance it had turned around and left, but that chance was completely wiped out once they passed the trail of destruction it had left behind. Parts of the roads were torn up where it had walked, there were massive dents in the brick walls of buildings as if it had smashed its tail into them, and there were smaller claw marks scored into cars and signs too.

That giant thing wasn’t alone. Today couldn’t get any worse.

They weren’t far from Goby Arena when Faye heard that monster’s cry, far louder than the bike engine. “Let me out near here,” she said loudly so Marina would hear her words. “They might go after your bike otherwise.”

“You’re sure?” Marina gave her a worried look, politely pulling over to the curb even though there was nobody on this usually-busy road. The only cars here were empty, with all the people who had more self-preservation than Faye apparently did getting as far from the monsters as they could.

“I’m sure,” Faye nodded. She hopped out of the sidecar, dipping her head in acknowledgement. “Thanks.”

“Faye— Agent 3.” Marina gave her an intense look, her expression one of someone who knew there was serious danger ahead. “Be careful.”

“Yeah.” Faye didn’t know what ‘careful’ was in this situation. Being careful would be not heading directly for the colossal beast, but that was what she planned on doing, and that was what she did.

She may not have known the area surrounding Goby Arena, but she didn’t need to, because the snarls and howls and whatever other awful noises those monsters made were a very effective guiding tool. Just a street away, there was a horrendously loud _crash_ , and it felt like the earth was shaking again.

_No, no, no…_

The arena was in sight, with its stylish walls and dome-like shape, and that giant creature was stood up on its hind legs to reach the roof, slamming its forelegs against it. The roof wasn’t a match for a monster that size.

It was breaking into the building, and even worse, there were at least a dozen of the smaller creatures swarming around it, climbing up onto the roof ready to go through the opening it made.

Everyone inside that building was going to be a sitting duck.

Faye was about to become one of said ducks.

She didn’t know what to do, but the first priority was going to have to be making sure everyone was safe. _Everyone including Marie. Maybe especially Marie._ The monsters were focused on climbing up the building, and though one or two of the smaller ones were sniffing around the packed car park, they didn’t notice Faye as she darted between vehicles, using them as cover.

A massive turnstile door led into the building, and the sensors had been deactivated, so Faye had to shove it with all her might to get it to budge instead, hoping none of the beasts would notice the movement. As soon as there was a gap big enough for her to fit through in squid form, she did just that, bursting through to the other side.

The building shuddered as it was hit again.

_Okay, no time to waste._ Faye felt the eerie calm fall over her, the same she often used to get on missions into deep octarian territory, knowing that everything was incredibly serious and incredibly dangerous and one wrong move could spell disaster. She took a deep breath and focused on her surroundings, easily ignoring the pounding in her head, which had been near-constant for days now.

This was a small reception room. There was a desk here but it was bolted to the floor and therefore no use for a barricade, but there was probably a chair behind it – and there was also someone cowering _under_ the desk, presumably the receptionist.

“ _Who are you_!?” the receptionist hissed in a whispered voice, and for an eel it probably wasn’t too far from her normal one.

“Help, hopefully,” Faye stated with a confidence to her voice that almost scared her, because nothing felt real right now. She picked up the receptionist’s chair. “What’s the status of the people in the building? The audience? The—the Squid Sisters?”

“I—I don’t know!” The eel sobbed. “There—there’s some security, I think, I don’t know where they are or what they’re doing, I-I’m just a temp nobody told me what I was supposed to do if we got _attacked_!”

“Okay.” Well, this chair probably wasn’t very strong, but it was at least solid enough that she could wedge it in the door in such a way that it’d provide _some_ resistance if those monsters worked out how to push it. Either they hadn’t tried too hard to get in this way yet, or the glass surrounding the door, and the door itself, was reinforced and a lot stronger than the weak stuff the window at the cabin had been made of. “Find a closet or something and stay hidden.”

She shoved her way through the next door, one leading out to a large waiting area where the crowds would gather on their way to be organised into their seats, and from here Faye could hear the shouts and screams of terror as people fled the monsters. Hopefully the people in charge of the building would manage to get everyone somewhere safe, probably not _out_ because there were more of the beasts outside, and hopefully they _knew_ that already and wouldn’t find out the hard way.

So, that meant her job would be to try and keep those things away from people, and she wasn’t looking forward to that. This was what she’d flung herself into this mess for, but she knew who she wanted to find and confirm the safety of first.

* * *

Eight had been pretty sure her fear for the day was going to be in the form of pre-match nerves, and as she sat in one of the viewing rooms to watch the concert, it definitely was. This was a very important match, and she couldn’t decide if the fact it was against people she _knew_ made it more or less terrifying. She tried to keep her focus on the performance instead of her teammates; Arty and Chance didn’t have much more to worry about than she did, but Eight couldn’t even begin to imagine how Mercedes was feeling right now.

Apparently the match wasn’t the worst of her fears after all. She should have been worried about _the roof of the building collapsing_.

It happened so suddenly there was no way she could have expected it, and yet when she saw the first of those monsters drop down amongst the now-empty chairs of fleeing audience, she remembered what had happened to Three.

These things were dangerous. They could easily kill someone, and they’d have no qualms about doing so, because they were wild beasts.

She didn’t know there was more than one of them. Three probably didn’t either.

“What is _happening_!?” Arty yelled over the muffled sounds of panic, blocked out by the glass room they were in.

The door behind them was swung open by the security guard who’d been standing just outside throughout the concert. “All of you need to get out of here, it’s not safe,” she stated, her experience showing through how calm her voice sounded – though there was only so far experience could get someone in a completely new situation like this.

A few of the monsters had made it down into the arena. One of them lifted its head, soulless eyes staring directly at them.

“Going. We are going,” Mercedes insisted, gently pulling on Eight’s arm when she didn’t immediately follow.

The monster that had spotted them reacted to the movement, realising the cephalopods were something it could chase. Eight didn’t stick around, escaping after her teammates and hearing a loud _thud_ from behind her.

She glanced back through the door as it closed behind them to see a large spiderweb-like crack on the glass.

“It can break through,” she warned them as they walked swiftly through the corridor after the security guard.

“Oh, that’s—that’s not good,” Chance said with a nervous laugh.

“Can the four of you find your way to the locker rooms?” the guard asked them. “They should be sturdy enough if more of the roof caves in, and we’re understaffed. I need to get everyone in the audience to safety.”

“We can do that,” Eight spoke up. She wanted as many people to be safe as possible; she was terrified of those things, especially after seeing the aftermath of Three’s injuries from one of them, but she was confident enough that she could protect her team. They probably didn’t even need protecting; they were all talented squids.

Still, being hunted by strange monsters was a lot different than a match.

“Ha ha, hah, okay,” Mercedes started once the guard hurried away in a different direction when the corridor they were walking along connected to another. “So we’re just—some alien things crash through the ceiling and we just, go and hide in the locker rooms and we’re okay?”

“Yes,” Eight responded simply. “I hope.”

“How are you _so_ _calm_!?” Arty curled his hands into his hair, almost dislodging his backwards-turned visor.

A loud crash sounded from somewhere behind them.

“Because panicking isn’t going to help,” Chance offered, though ‘panicked’ was a perfect summary of how he looked, and also how Eight felt inside. “Come on. We should run.”

The world felt strange and unreal as the four of them raced through the corridors, escaping from the currently unseen danger that lurked within the building. Crashes and screams and growls chilled the air with varying clarity, and Eight only wished she could do something to _stop_ all this from happening. The day had turned so fast. They were supposed to be going into the biggest match of the year, and now…

Now she didn’t know what was happening, or if everyone would be okay, or how they were supposed to make it out of this.

The last time she’d felt like this, there had been a giant laser gun pointed at the city she didn’t yet know, but at least Marina and Pearl had been there to tell her what to do. They were far away now, safely at home, but unable to help.

They couldn’t stop to read all the signs they passed, and Eight could hear the distant crashes and snarls that proved the monsters were still here. She knew the locker rooms were nearby, somewhere, and hoped it’d be somewhere _obvious_ and preferably with a brightly-coloured door that would set it apart from all the other doors. They hadn’t found it yet when someone burst from one of the connecting corridors, looking both ways and halting when they saw the group heading their way.

“ _Three_!” Eight shouted, surprised to see her here – and forgetting she wasn’t _technically_ supposed to call her that around her friends, but she’d done it so many times they wouldn’t think anything of it by now. It was just a silly nickname to them. Without knowing if she was terrified or relieved to see her, Eight raced onwards to hug her friend, almost knocking her over in the process. “What are you _doing_ here!?”

“Eight! You haven’t been eaten. That’s good,” Three greeted her, voice slightly muffled as she tried to wriggle out of Eight’s grip.

Eight released her, knowing this wasn’t exactly the time for hugs. “I thought you were not going?”

“I wasn’t, but then, y’know.” Three pointed upwards. She looked a little out of breath.

“We should keep going,” Chance warned them worriedly once he and the others caught up.

“Right. Yes. Going. Going where?” Three didn’t try to stop them, joining their little escape group even if it was likely to be momentarily. Eight suspected Three hadn’t entered a building under attack from monsters just to be another possible meal for them.

The fact she was here did give Eight some reassurance, though.

“To the locker rooms,” Mercedes relayed when Eight didn’t answer. “Security thinks it’s safe there. Also, just for the record, you saw a bunch of freaky monsters breaking into a building and decided to go _inside_?” She looked at Three like she’d grown an extra head. “Are you reckless or _completely_ _mad_?”

“Both, probably!” Three’s jog slowed just a little as she threw her hands into the air. They passed some stairs, and she halted. “Alright, you lot know where you’re going. I got things to do.”

“Wait—Three!” Eight wasn’t able to stop her, and soon she was out of sight. Now that reassurance was gone, replaced with worry from not knowing what was going to happen to her friend.

“Eight, come on!” Merce called back. “I have _no_ _idea_ what she’s up to, but you shouldn’t get involved!”

She wanted to follow after Three. She really did.

But her team needed her.

It didn’t take long to find their destination after that, because Four was stood in the doorway, keeping a lookout. He saw them approaching and waved, beckoning them inside and holding the door open so they could go through. Team Geode were here already, possibly also sent by security, and to Eight’s surprise, Jake was here as well.

“Is there anyone else coming, do you know?” Four asked once they were all in.

“Three’s here,” Eight told him. “I don’t think she is planning to hide, though.”

“Dear cod, that squid must have a death wish,” Four muttered – which didn’t ease Eight’s worries at all. “Still… if she thinks she can be a distraction, there’s a lot of those things out there. Maybe I should help.”

“Rollo, you can’t _fight_ those things!” Jake insisted, grabbing his arm as if that would help anchor him to the spot, despite being significantly smaller than his brother.

“You’ll get yourself killed out there,” Delilah added.

Eight looked through the numbers on the lockers for the one she’d been assigned on her way in; each of their weapons had been checked over for any illegal modifications before the match and brought here ready for them, and fortunately she hadn’t lost the key in all the madness. Her octoshot was just a replica, and she wasn’t sure whether it’d even do anything against something that wasn’t ink-based, but a weapon was still better than no weapon.

She didn’t realise Mercedes was watching her until she turned with ink tank in hand, wondering if having it as a limiter would be a good decision or not in a life-or-death situation. Eight froze in place, waiting for Merce to demand she sit here and do nothing.

“Maybe we should help,” her team captain said eventually. “We got out easily; everyone in the audience would’ve been in much more danger, and… well, top athletes would be harder to catch than an average citizen.”

Eight looked at her in surprise, a grateful smile slowly spreading on her face.

“I’m in!” Harper cheered immediately, running to find her locked-up weapons.

“Uh— _no_?” Delilah threw Mercedes an incredulous glance. “What, you expect us to sacrifice ourselves? I don’t care how much you want to be a hero, Sadie, you can’t force us to do anything.”

“I’m not _forcing_ you!” Merce snapped back. “And it’s not about _being a hero_ , it’s about making sure everyone gets out of here safely!”

“If you want to offer yourself as some monster’s meal then go right ahead! Just don’t drag _my_ team into joining you!”

“ _Your_ _team_ can think for themselves.” Four’s voice sounded uncharacteristically cold. “And _I_ think I care more about everyone’s safety than the grudge you have against your ex-girlfriend.”

“What!?” Delilah turned on him, her eyes blazing with anger. “That’s _not_ what I—”

“Dee,” Ada said quietly, placing a hand on her arm. Out of all of Team Geode, Ada looked the most terrified by what was happening – but she was still trying to be brave.

Delilah hesitated for a long moment, her furious gaze sweeping over Four and Ada and Team Mace, and Harper who was ignoring the argument as she flung open a locker and almost had her dualie case fall on her. After a painful amount of seconds passed, Delilah finally let out a defeated sigh. “Okay—okay, fine, you’re right. We should help.”

“Jake,” Four patted his brother’s shoulder. “You stay here. We need to get as many people into here as possible – or anywhere else that’s sturdy. The bathrooms, maybe.” He clapped his hands together. “Anyone who doesn’t want to face those things doesn’t have to, and anyone who _does_ shouldn’t go alone.”

Harper jumped onto one of the benches, spinning her dualies. “Everybody choose your monster-fighting buddy!”

“And if the monsters come here?” Jake asked with a tremor in his voice.

“Then you scare them off. There’s only one way into this room, and it’s through the door.” Four looked around quickly at the group. “Ada and Delilah, stay here for now, at least until there’s enough people here that Jake doesn’t have to defend alone.”

“Right,” Delilah nodded, seeming a lot more co-operative now.

“Harper, you’re with me,” he continued.

“What!” Harper gave him a disappointed look. “I wanted to go with Eight!”

“Yes, and Arty doesn’t want to go with me, so it works out better this way.”

“Wow. This man can read my mind,” Arty tutted. He’d fetched his H-3 and kept rolling it shakily in his hands in anticipation for what was going to happen.

“We need to go quickly,” Eight spoke up for the first time in a while. She wanted to get out there and find Three – who would almost assuredly refuse to be part of their buddy system. Eight was grimly reminded of the mission in the domes and hoped the chosen pairs here would work out well enough that there wouldn’t be a repeat, especially when there was so much more at stake.

“Everyone grab your weapons; I’ll see if I can find something sturdier than a roller,” Four announced. “Try and get those things’ attention. If they get too close to you, aim for their eyes, and be careful to not fire your weapons unless you _absolutely_ need to. And whatever you do, _do not_ take any unnecessary risks.”

* * *

This wasn’t happening.

This could _not_ be happening.

Clearly the concert had been too much for her and she was having some kind of weird dream-hallucination, and any moment now she was going to wake up on the floor of Goby Arena with Callie freaking out because her cousin had passed out during a performance again. That had been embarrassing enough the first time it happened, during a splatfest in a summer heatwave.

But the panic and the screaming sounded so real, there were monsters here and descending into the arena, a few of them crashing to the ground and tearing up the wooden floor where Marie and Callie had been just a minute prior.

This couldn’t be real, right?

Reality flooded back and hit her all at once when Callie harshly tugged at her arm. “Marie! We _have_ to _move_!”

They did! They had to get out of here immediately! _Oh_ _cod_! “Uhhhh— _right_!” Marie snapped out of her daze, managing to get her legs to function properly as Callie half-dragged her up the slope.

The two security guards who had been waiting by the door beckoned them over, quickly closing the doors once both of them were through. “Are you okay?”

“W-we’re—we’re fine, we’re alright, make sure everyone else gets somewhere safe,” Callie quickly demanded of them, and Marie’s thoughts would have echoed her words if it wasn’t for the fact she was still in absolute disbelief.

“But ma’am, we’ve been ordered to protect you—”

“And we’re _here_ and we’re safe and everyone in the audience is out there with those _things_!” Callie insisted, and without a second thought the guards nodded in acknowledgement and hurried away to help.

Good, they weren’t being fussed over when lots of other people were in danger. Bad, they were now on their own.

“What the _fuck_ just happened,” Marie managed to wheeze out at last, feeling like her entire body was shaking from panic despite how exhausted she was. She really _really_ hoped this was all just a very lucid stress dream the night before their concert.

“I have no idea, but I think we need to find somewhere safer to go,” Callie told her, and Marie could tell she was also terrified but was doing her absolute best to fight it. Callie always had been better at that.

“Haha—hah—okay, where?”

“Away from… these doors, and whatever the things out there are.” That sounded so simple when she said it like that. Callie took her cousin’s gloved hand and squeezed it so hard it was more pain than reassurance, but she could tell Marie was panicking. “Come on.”

Marie let Callie pull her along at first, just because she still felt incredibly _unreal_. Things had taken such a turn so suddenly she didn’t quite believe it, but this was _happening_ and she _had_ to. She didn’t even understand what was attacking the arena. It couldn’t be octarians. Octarians didn’t look like _that_.

“Why can’t we do _one thing_ without something going horribly wrong,” she said with shaking words, finally managing to force the shock aside so that she could walk on her own and Callie would stop crushing her hand – even if that had been a pretty good way of grounding herself back into reality.

“It’s not—I don’t know—everything’s going to be fine?” Callie said half-heartedly, not sounding like she really believed her own words. “Let’s just focus on getting somewhere safe.”

There was nowhere safe. The building they were in wasn’t safe. Far along the corridor they were heading down a door was suddenly flung from its hinges, smashing against the opposite wall, quickly followed by _something_.

That was the door to one of the glass viewing areas at the side. The places where the teams were. Something must have smashed through the glass and broken in.

Which meant people had been in there – either Four or Eight’s team.

Hopefully they’d escaped before it could get to them.

And it looked at them, the most horrifying beast Marie had ever seen in her life, all scales and scars and thin bony limbs and teeth, and if Callie hadn’t been there to harshly pull her away again she would absolutely have stood there, frozen, and been mauled to death.

But, fortunately, her cousin was a lot more alert than she was right now. Also a lot _louder_ , because Callie’s scream of fear quickly threw Marie back into panic mode.

All they could do was run for their lives.

Marie soon heard the thundering steps of the creature running after them, thudding into walls as it struggled to go full pelt through the narrow corridor. She tried not to think too much about it and absolutely _refused_ to look back.

Callie had a firm grip on her arm now, and that made it slightly harder to run, but she knew her cousin was making absolutely sure they didn’t get separated this time. That had gone extremely badly the last time they’d had to run for their lives, through the octarian domes back when Octavio was still there.

Marie really didn’t want to think about that now, to think about all the terrible things that could possibly go wrong.

She could hear, through her panic, more noises up ahead. Screaming and running – they were heading towards the crowd.

“Callie, we have to go another way!” she managed to say loud enough her cousin would hear her. “We can’t lead this thing to everyone!”

“Aaaa _aaargh_ , right!” Callie looked around in panic before taking a sudden turn when the corridor split. This new path sloped upward, heading for the top of the stands, hopefully somewhere people _wouldn’t_ use as an escape route when the lower stairs were the way out.

Claws scrabbled against the smooth floor, horrifyingly close behind them, as the monster in chase realised they’d turned and scrambled to follow.

This path took them on a slight curve, and Marie really hoped some kind of escape would present itself to them, because she knew she couldn’t run forever. Her body was exhausted after the performance. The only silver lining to this was that it _had_ been a concert and not just an appearance; they would very much be dead already if they had to wear heels.

The stands did not look like a safe place to be, even if they were now on the opposite side of the arena to where the roof had caved in. From here it looked like everyone had managed to get out of their seats at least, and there were a few people still vanishing from sight into the exits. There were definitely patches of blue and red on some of the chairs, though; no bodies, but not everyone who escaped had done so unharmed.

There was no time to spend pitying strangers’ injuries, because Callie was pulling her down through the stands, and Marie had to shift all her focus into not falling down the stairs, which she almost did multiple times – and when she did slip, it was right on the last few, and Callie still had enough of a grip on her arm to stop her from going straight to the ground. They ran along the smooth path, and Marie didn’t know what Callie’s plan was or where she expected to get to, but she didn’t have the breath to ask.

The creature following them didn’t care about stairs, or seats. It launched itself across the rows of seats, crashing through them to take a faster path and cut off their route. Marie nearly tripped over her cousin when Callie skidded to a halt, pushing her back instead as the monster landed in front of them and span to right itself, snarling and drooling.

There wasn’t any way to escape these things.

She didn’t know what to do.

How they could get away.

How anything could _possibly_ be alright.

An unexpected flash of colour was how.

The monster yelped in surprise as something crashed into its side. It was thrown off-balance, falling against the railing with a loud _clang_ of metal, immediately stumbling to try and right itself while at the same time twisting to snap at the thing that had hit it.

Marie’s stomach immediately filled with dread once she realised it was an inkling, and her voice rose in a wail of fear.

“ _Faye_!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Margin who has never actually learned the road rules: you are all terrible drivers!!!
> 
> Rollo is from a place where alligators exist and his advice for fighting the fish beasts was basically obtained from wikihow from me looking up how to escape from an alligator attack,, these things are just alligators with longer legs right


	33. Agent

In retrospect, Faye really should have learnt from last time that when someone else was in danger, ‘throw her entire self at the source of said danger’ was not always the most reliable way to fix it. She really needed to stop doing that. It was definitely a health risk by this point.

But she saw Marie in danger and her instincts just kicked in. Her instincts of ‘do the only thing available to you at this moment in time’, which was in fact to throw herself at a monster three times her size and just sort of hope things worked out.

Whether they had was up for debate currently. She hadn’t died yet. The monster hadn’t gotten to Marie (or Callie). It span and snapped at her and she felt the draft of its jaws _way_ too close to her ear, and she instinctively shrank down into squid form to escape, confusing the beast further as she slipped beneath it and tried to not get crushed by its claws.

Marie shouted her name, and that got the monster’s attention now it had lost track of the thing attacking it – and no, she absolutely could _not_ let it go after its original target again, and the only thing she could really do to stop this right now was to reform on its other side and hit it as hard as she could.

It didn’t like that. Faye would also not like if a very small person punched her in the gut. She just about managed to dodge out of the way in time as it lunged for her, crashing against the dented rails it had hit just now.

This time they gave out from the force, sending the beast toppling over the side — which would have been all grand and wonderful had Faye not suddenly gotten smacked by a giant heavy tail on its way down, as if the thing was making one last effort to take her with it.

The world span around her as she was thrown off balance and dragged over the side, and she only _just_ managed to reach out and grab one of the ripped metal bars seconds before it’d be too far from her reach. All of Faye’s suppressed panic seemed to hit her at once as she felt the emptiness beneath her, and the stinging in her hand because this was the one that had been stabbed by glass, and heard the creaking of the damaged metal rail that didn’t want to hold up her weight.

Faye glanced down – it wasn’t a long fall, but the fall wouldn’t be the problem. It was the beast, who didn’t seem particularly hurt from falling such a height, rolling back to its feet and trying to stand up on its hind legs to reach the tasty snack it could sense coming its way.

She really did not want to fall down there.

Faye swung up her other arm to grab the rail too, but shifting her weight caused the metal bar to jolt and creak angrily. _No no no just stay connected long enough for me to climb back up PLEASE!_

“Faye!” Someone shouted, and Faye had never been more glad to see Callie as she appeared above her, reaching down over the new gap in the rail. “Grab my hand!”

That was easier said than done, because Faye’s current safe reach was the bar she was clinging to for dear life, and Callie’s hand was further away than that. The only way to reach her would be to try and swing herself up more, and with how loose this railing was getting, she’d only have one shot.

There wasn’t any time to waste. Faye used her whole body to swing up and reach for Callie’s hand, and as soon as she made contact, the bar she was holding onto finally gave in and snapped, dragging her down. Callie managed to grab her just in time before she could be sent to a morbid death, and Faye’s stomach did an entire flip when her drop was cut very short. The broken bar fell from her hand, and the beast below scrambled back as it landed centimetres away from it.

_That was close._

Being suspended in the air and just held up by someone was very unnerving, but there wasn’t much Faye could do to remedy the situation. Callie scrunched up her face as she used all her roller-wielding strength to heave Faye back up to the stands, and once she was almost there, Marie had enough space to reach out and take Faye’s other hand to help pull her back up to somewhat-safety.

Faye took a second to glance around and make sure no more of those things had them in their sights once Callie released her hand, and then without any real thought or control of her actions, moved around to pull Marie into a hug. “You’re _okay_.” Her words came out as more of a wheeze than she expected, but her hearts were still drumming like crazy.

Marie almost stumbled, and Faye realised just how shaken she was, very understandably, but she didn’t push Faye away. In fact, as soon as she was in Faye’s arms, she quickly hugged her back, her hold tighter than Faye expected, and for just a moment Marie curled her fingers into Faye’s hoodie. Even if it was mere seconds, Faye wanted to cling to this moment for as long as possible, forget the rest of the world and everything terrible that was happening around them, and it was just her and Marie and the feeling that things might be alright, actually, which she’d been desperately trying to find for _days_.

The moment couldn’t last, though, as Marie soon tensed up and gently pushed her away. “We’re—we’re out in the open, if anyone finds out I know you you’re going to have trouble,” she said awkwardly, although with anyone around focussed on not getting eaten by monsters, that reaction had most likely been because Callie was right here and watching them.

“Right—yeah, sorry.” Faye shrank away, feeling her cheeks burning with embarrassment, but hopefully it wasn’t actually noticeable. Once again her impulsiveness had gotten the better of her, but she couldn’t bring herself to care too much right now. She was just glad Marie was safe. Relatively. Compared to about a minute ago.

“I see _I_ don’t get a hug,” Callie said in a way that was _probably_ a joke, but Faye wasn’t good enough at reading others to tell – or to know, if it _was_ , whether that meant she’d seen through Faye or not.

Oh, Faye _really_ did not want Callie to know she had a crush on her cousin. That would make their slightly-estranged friendship a lot more awkward. “… Thanks,” she settled for eventually, patting the pink squid’s shoulder and hoping that would suffice, because Faye’s capacity for hugs was pretty much limited to Marie and _sometimes_ Eight. “For, uh—for saving me.”

“No problem! You did it first,” Callie grinned, but quickly gave a worried look around. “Can we go somewhere else? Somewhere less full of monsters?”

“Not really. We _can_ go somewhere with less directions for them to attack from,” Faye shrugged helplessly, pointing to the nearby stairwell. “The whole building is… kinda full of monsters, I’m afraid. They’re outside too, so leaving isn’t safe either.”

“Oh. Reassuring,” Marie said with a nervous laugh, her usual sarcasm not coming through quite as much as she intended, but she didn’t hesitate to follow after Faye and Callie as they made a beeline for the stairs.

“Okay, we need to go… somewhere safe… er?” Callie determined as they descended into the exit as quickly as they could. “There were a lot of people in the audience, and I don’t know where they are now or if those things are after them – I definitely hear screaming, though.”

“I saw Eight’s team. I think they were heading for the locker rooms.” Security had deemed that a safe room, and with a giant attacking the building, they were probably right. Faye watched as Marie almost slipped on one of the steps and reached out to hold her gloved hand, ready to catch her if she did fall. Marie was too busy watching where she was going to react, her other hand glued to the railing at the side.

“Did you see Four’s? Or Jake?” Callie asked, glancing back for a moment but not taking much notice of Faye holding her cousin’s hand. She looked worried.

“No. Sorry.” Faye thought about letting go when they reached the bottom of the stairs, but the way Marie was holding her hand, tensely and with a tight grip she probably hadn’t even noticed herself, made her decide not to. This was a scary situation, much more dangerous than a dark empty octarian dome, and Faye wanted to do anything she could to help her.

“Why are you _here_?” Marie murmured at last, her fleeting gaze meting Faye’s for just a moment. “I-I thought you weren’t—and what happened to your _leg_?”

Oh. Right. The scars were still there in the open, and also burning like hell but Faye had stopped noticing in all the madness. “Uh. Long story? Well—no, it’s really not. Those things happened.” She motioned back towards the arena with her free hand.

That seemed to make Marie realise how tightly she was holding Faye’s other one, and drew her hand back so quickly it almost hurt, pulling her arms around herself instead. “Y-you—what— you’ve seen them _before_!?”

“Only a few days ago! One of them attacked me at the cabin, I didn’t know there’d be _more_ of them.”

Marie looked at her with wide eyes. “And you didn’t think to _tell_ us!? You said everything was fine! That’s _not_ _fine_!”

“I just—I didn’t want you to worry!” Faye defended herself, lifting her hands as if she was touching the walls she could feel building themselves around her again. “I didn’t know it’d lead to any of _this_ , and—a-and anyway, I was staying with Pearl and Marina, so it’s not like I was _lying_ when I said I was alright.”

Faye thought she saw a look of hurt in Marie’s eyes when she mentioned Off the Hook. “But you could have _told_ _me_!”

“You were _busy_! I didn’t want to waste your time!”

“How could your safety _possibly_ be a _waste_ _of_ _time_!?”

“ _Stop_ _arguing_!” Callie turned around suddenly to yell at them, putting her hands on her hips with a pout. “You’re making me sad and also each other and it’s _not_ helping anything right now!”

That, at the very least, was enough to momentarily stun the both of them into silence. Faye averted her gaze to the ground, shoving her hands into her pockets as she walked. “Yeah,” she muttered eventually. “… Sorry.”

Marie walked in silence next to her for a moment, focusing on keeping up with her cousin’s swift pace as Callie tried to lead them someplace safe. “No, it’s… I’m sorry. Today’s a lot. I don’t want to deal with any of this.”

“I know. That’s okay,” Faye said quietly. “Me too.”

“So… A-Agent 3,” Marie continued, and it stung more than Faye expected for Marie to call her by her agent title. “Is there… any-anything you can tell us? About these things?”

Faye felt the overwhelming urge to completely clam up and walk in silence, but she did her absolute best to force her emotions aside. That wasn’t what was important right now. “I don’t know—big? Scaly? Capable of big destruction? I think they’re attracted to sound. That’s why they came here.”

“Sound, huh,” Callie muttered from just ahead, thoughtfully tapping the side of her fist against the palm of her other hand. “So… they must have good hearing, right?”

“I highly doubt they’re eavesdropping on our conversation. They’d be on their way to eat us.”

“No, silly!” Callie huffed at her. “What if we made a really big sound? That might distract them enough to get them away from everyone else.”

“Yeah, and straight to _us_!” Marie pointed out in exasperation.

“Not if the sound isn’t coming from _us_!” Callie grinned and clapped her hands excitedly, as if she’d thought of a plan and was extremely proud of herself for it. “We were supposed to commentate the match, and it wouldn’t have been broadcasted to the arena because we might end up, like, tipping off the other team about where someone was hiding or something, but it _is_ when they use this place for basketball! There’s speakers all around the stands!” She held her arms up in the air, turning them in circles to signify the building. “We need to get to the commentator booth! Right now!”

“Is it going to be safe for you there?” Faye checked.

“It should be! I don’t know. I’m not an expert on fishy monsters.”

“It’s the best we’ve got,” Marie shrugged helplessly. “Hopefully it works.”

Thus, Faye’s next mission became an escort one, making sure Marie and Callie could make it safely to the booth. Navigating the building was somewhat of a pain, but a stairwell provided a map of the place, and as they headed further up the screams and growls became quieter, with none of the monsters bothering to venture up to the floors with no people – but every now and then, a massive sound would erupt overhead, and the angered whine of the giant would overpower everything else, louder now they were closer to it.

Marie hesitated at the noise. “Wha—wha-at is that?”

“The big one,” Faye responded simply, stopping and heading back to offer her a hand and encourage her to keep going – to her relief, Marie took it.

“Oh. There’s a _big_ one,” she responded absently, with a slightly haunted look.

“Yeah. That’s what broke through the roof. It definitely wasn’t the little ones.”

“ _Little_ ,” Marie echoed.

“… By comparison. Y’know what, just— don’t think too much about it! We’ll be fine.” She gave Marie’s hand a reassuring squeeze, and Marie leaned against her for a brief moment – and Faye couldn’t tell if it was a search for comfort, or if learning of the colossal danger hovering over them had made her feel faint. Hopefully just the former.

The shuddering was worse the further they got up, though. Faye was pretty sure the booth would be fine, at least for now, because it was relatively small and square and the walls were mostly lined with electronics, keeping them out of the way of where cameras would point against the back wall, and the overlooking window to the arena which was the only slightly unnerving part. This place was high up, though, hopefully too high for the monsters to easily climb up from the arena, because even if the glass in this building was strong, it was still _glass_.

This also gave Faye a perfect view as some more metal and plaster collapsed from the roof of the arena, along with another fierce cry from the giant.

Goby Arena was a pretty sturdy building, but it could only take so much damage before that stopped being the case. As much as she wanted to stay here and make absolutely sure Marie (and Callie) was safe, this room would do a pretty good job of that already.

“I have to get to the roof,” she stated, staring out at the damage.

“ _What_!?” Callie cried as she looked away from the controls she was trying to make sense of.

“It’s going to keep hitting the place. It wants to get in, and if it does—well…” Faye let that sentence trail off, not wanting to describe the destruction and death she knew would happen if it did. “Either that or the whole building will come down. I need to go up there, and… get it to stop, somehow.”

“But what can you _do_?” Marie gave her a horrified look as she echoed Faye’s thoughts.

“I… don’t know. Distract it, I guess.” Faye shrugged helplessly. “Anything that makes it stop hitting the building.”

“What if it doesn’t work? What if it—what if it just crushes you, or eats you, and it goes right back to attacking?” Marie’s voice rose a little. “Faye, you don’t have to do anything. You’re already here. You’ve helped.”

“Someone has to, and nobody else will.” Faye shook her head, patting the doorframe on her way out. “You should be safe in here as long as you keep the door firmly shut. I don’t think the smaller ones will come up to this floor when there’s nobody screaming here.”

“But you—Faye.” Marie’s voice became muffled as Faye closed the door behind her. She wished she could lock it from the outside. “ _Faye_!”

Faye had only walked a few metres before the door swung open again, and Marie rushed out, grabbing her arm to stop her. Marie wasn’t that strong, not enough to be able to forcefully hold Faye where she was, but Faye didn’t try to fight her off, just halting instead. She didn’t want to hurt her.

“You won’t be able to do anything to stop it!” Marie insisted. “Faye, please, you don’t—you don’t have to sacrifice yourself for this, you don’t _have_ to be the hero.”

_But being the hero is the only thing I’m good for._

Faye bit the inside of her cheek, moving her arm in the most feeble attempt to escape – but Marie was not letting go of her, and she probably wasn’t going to until Faye agreed to stay here, which Faye couldn’t do. “There’s no one else who can.”

“Faye.” Marie’s voice quivered, and the grip on Faye’s arm disappeared. She wasn’t quite prepared for suddenly being pulled into an embrace instead, stunned for just a moment when Marie threw her arms around her neck and pulled her in close, her voice right next to Faye’s ear. “You stupid _idiot_ , why won’t you just accept that you _mean_ _something to people_!?”

Her arms hung at her sides for a moment as her current situation sank in, until Faye managed to get her body to co-operate again and return the embrace. She didn’t _want_ to go. There was a definite strong part of her brain that just wanted to stay here, with Marie, the one person who could make her feel like things were alright even when they very much weren’t. That part was extra-powerful right now, with just how _close_ Marie felt with her stage outfit exposing her shoulders, her skin warm against the side of Faye’s face. Faye wanted nothing more than to bury her face in the crook of Marie’s neck and let the world fade away.

But she couldn’t. Not now. There were so many people in danger.

“I’m not planning to go and feed myself to a giant monster,” she said quietly, knowing Marie would be able to hear her. “I’m sorry. I know you’re worried. And—I understand.” She sucked in a slow breath, Marie’s presence comforting her a little, even though she was close enough that Faye could feel her hearts pounding. Perhaps it was her own protective nature that calmed her, knowing that Marie was more scared about the whole situation than she was. “I promise I’ll be careful.”

“I wish you weren’t such a stubborn squid,” Marie sniffled, giving a dry laugh that Faye felt as well as heard from the way it made her body tremble. “There’s no way to stop you, is there?”

“Nope.” Faye couldn’t help but smile despite the direness of the situation.

Marie sighed, her hold on Faye finally starting to loosen. “Fine.” She took a step back, her hands resting on Faye’s arms, as if Faye would be lost as soon as she let go. “Just… don’t do anything reckless. Not any _more_ reckless than climbing on the roof.”

“I won’t. I already promised.” Faye managed a grin, hoping that would help to ease her nerves.

“Okay. Well.” Marie let out a small huff. She seemed to deliberate on something for just a moment, unsurely lowering her arms – and then changed her mind, giving Faye one more hug for good measure, and Faye had never been more okay with being held in her entire life. Marie’s voice was so close to her ear this time. “I’m holding you to that promise, alright?”

It barely registered in the moment, the gentle brush against her skin just before Marie let go of her – but it did.

Marie kissed her cheek.

_Oh_.

_Oh_!

_Okay._

All Faye could do for a few seconds was stare at her, slightly dumbfounded. “I… yeah. I will—I mean—you can? Yeah. That’s what I—yeah.” She internally cringed at the way she fumbled for the words. _This isn’t the time to act like a lovestruck idiot!_

_But also does this mean she might like me back actually and I haven’t been reaching this whole time and maybe I DO have a chance and oh my COD brain shut UP there are SERIOUS THINGS going on right now!!_

“Okay—I’m going to… go deal with that thing.” Faye nodded, trying to get her mind back in order as she pointed towards the roof. “In a… non-reckless and careful way. Yes.”

“Right. Good.” Marie folded her arms, giving a small nod of her own, a light blush dusting her cheeks as if she was only just realising her own actions and was a little embarrassed by them now she had. “… Good luck.”

“Yeah. Thank you.” Faye backed away at last, regarding Marie with a look she hoped didn’t look too incredibly soft and sappy because that was currently how she _felt_ even if she was trying her best to _not_ feel it.

Another loud noise from above jogged her priorities back into order, and very soon she was running, looking for a way up. She knew there was a balcony area somewhere; it was visible from the outside, and she’d seen the word written on a few of the arrow signs around the building, and though that wouldn’t be the _roof_ that was the closest she’d be able to get from inside.

Despite the peril she faced, there was a new lightness in her hearts, a burst of energy that kept her going. Faye intended to hold onto that for as long as possible.

* * *

Marie tried not to lose her nerve as she shut the door to the booth behind her, giving it an experimental shove to make sure it wouldn’t easily open without the handle being turned. There was, of course, a part of her mind that was completely freaking out over what she just did, but mostly she was pre-occupied with _worrying_ , and right now it was mostly about Faye. That was enough to override the embarrassment she’d felt about kissing her on the cheek. (Although really, Faye had done it before, so…?)

She really wished she’d been able to convince Faye to stay here with them, rather than the incredibly dangerous mission she’d taken upon herself. Unfortunately, Faye was one of the most annoyingly stubborn squids Marie had ever met.

Why did she have to fall head-over-heels for this one in particular? Ugh.

“Sooo,” Callie spoke up as she pried open a flap on the wall, saw it contained nothing but wires, and promptly closed it with a horrified look at the complexity. “You and Faye?”

“Don’t—not _now_ , Callie,” Marie brushed her off, feeling her face burn more ferociously than before. “We need—we need to work out how to broadcast something loud through all the arena speakers.”

“I’m _working_ on it!” Callie grabbed one of the standing mics near the front of the room, bringing it over to a small speaker on the wall; the speaker began to shriek in protest when the microphone was brought close to it, and Callie gave a thumbs-up, moving it away before it could hurt their ears any further. “Got the noise sorted, just needa work out how to activate all the speakers. Also, who asked who out first?”

“What— _no one_! We’re just friends,” Marie scoffed at her. “You know that! Now will you please _stop_ prying into my dating life so I can work out how these settings work, because that’s a _lot_ more important right now!”

“Okay, _okay_ ,” Callie rolled her eyes. Marie didn’t stop to admire how easily she could go back into poking fun at her cousin as soon as they were out of immediate danger; she could tell from the way Callie was pacing back and forth that she was still almost as panicked as Marie was about the whole situation, but she was trying to make things feel more _normal_ , even if it was at her cousin’s expense. “Sorry. I will pester you about this later, once everyone is safe.”

“Oh, goodie.” Marie sighed, but finally noticed one of the many poorly-labelled switch collections on the wall that looked promising. “Let’s hope this works.”

* * *

When Margin finally saw the arena in the distance, she had the horrible feeling that she was too late. The colossal beast loomed over the building, smashing its heavy legs against the roof with the same force it had used to break down the barrier, and from the looks of things it had already made a hole. The streets around had fallen near-silent and there wasn’t a smaller mutant in sight; they must have all gone inside the building.

The building which was absolutely full of people. Most of which were probably inklings, and Margin told herself she didn’t care about this, and she _kind_ _of_ didn’t, but also she felt like she _should_?

Ugh, everything was so _confusing_! She just needed to get this over with and maybe save a few inklings and they would never have to know she’d cared, however briefly.

There wasn’t going to be anything she could do down here, and that meant the only way was up. Margin didn’t want to go inside the monster- and inkling-infested building, which meant her only option was to scale the outside, and that was likely to be… difficult. The arena was very big, and the walls looked very smooth and not suitable for climbing. Margin tried to see if she could use the slight indents in the painted bricks to climb, but there wasn’t enough for her to get a grip on them, and she ended up falling back down the second she’d left the ground. This would have been a _really_ good time to have a superjump device, but alas, they _weren’t_ _allowed_ outside of matches.

Fortunately, Squidgy was here, and after watching her fail for a moment he glanced up, trying to work out why she would want to climb a wall. Then he launched himself into the air, using the wall as a stepping stone to reach the first actual platform on the way up, a small overhang above one of the windows. He looked down at her, like he was questioning to himself why she couldn’t follow his example, and upon realising octolings were not a species blessed with the power of climbing, hung his tail over the side for her to grab onto.

“You are an absolute _genius_ ,” Margin huffed out, more out of breath than she wanted to admit after running the few streets to get here. Squidgy’s scales felt rough on her hands as he pulled her up, and Margin had to scramble for balance on the overhang as she let go, giving him the freedom to find the next platform without her weight holding him down. There were enough ledges for him to hop up, with _just_ _enough_ space for her to reach his tail even if one time she did have to do a leap of faith, and when they were very close to the highest part of the wall Margin decided she was absolutely not going to look down. There wasn’t much of a climb left, and she could probably make it herself, but it’d be safer for Squidgy to lift her up.

At least, it would be, if the second he reached the top he hadn’t suddenly perked up his head-fins in alertness, letting out an excited yowl as he vanished from sight.

“Squidgy!?” Margin looked at the place where he’d vanished with a panicked glance. She didn’t know what had distracted him, if it was the giant one – but usually he didn’t seem happy about that.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Margin hauled herself up the last section of the wall.

* * *

It wasn’t too difficult to find the doors to the balcony, because they were pointed out by a few signs on her way here. Faye hadn’t run into any trouble finding this place when all the creatures were on the lower floors or in the arena, but the biggest roadblock standing in her way now was that the doors were locked. They clearly didn’t want people from the audience going out onto the balcony unsupervised during such a big event.

Fortunately, the doors to the balcony were at least eighty percent glass, and therefore were not a roadblock when there was a helpful metal fire extinguisher nearby. Watching and feeling the glass shatter was rather satisfying, but also made her slightly less confident about the rest of the glass in the building and how it would stand up to a bunch of monsters who weren’t afraid to throw themselves against it with force.

The balcony spanned a large curve of the building’s edge, with tables and chairs stacked up along the inner wall as well as a small built-in food stall that was currently empty. The roof stretched out over the top of it to offer shelter when used as a dining area, so perhaps getting up onto the actual roof from here wasn’t going to be as easy as Faye had hoped, but at the far end the wall began to slope more at an angle and the overcast sunlight lit it up, so that looked like her best bet for now.

Half way there, her luck ran out. She heard the excited yowl of a monster and its claws clanging against the metal as it climbed over the railing before she turned and saw it, and immediately knew it had seen _her_.

Not only that, but this was the first one she’d seen that actually looked familiar. With all its scars and fins – this was the one that had attacked her at the cabin.

_You came back for more, huh?_ Faye didn’t know what to do against this thing, but she grabbed her heroshot anyway. Things would have to be different this time. The only way for her to escape now would be to either jump off the building or lead it back inside, and she didn’t want to do either of those things. If she couldn’t deal with one smaller beast, there really _would_ be nothing she could do against the big one.

And if she tried to run away and get to the roof, it would follow her, and then she’d have even more things to deal with at once.

There weren’t many places to run here, and her only defence was an ink gun and a handful of garden furniture, which wasn’t a lot to work with. Now was as good a time as any to see if ink would do anything against these things.

Faye pressed a button on her heroshot’s canister, drawing a burst bomb from it and throwing it directly at the creature speeding for her. The bomb exploded on impact, directly in its face, and the monster yelped in surprise, stumbling to a halt. It didn’t seem hurt by it, but it definitely worked as a distraction. That was good to know.

It shook itself violently, scattering yellow ink across the ground that would soon evaporate and leave no trace. The ink dripped down its scaly snout in a similar way to how it acted on glass or plastic, a sign that this thing definitely _wasn’t_ made of ink and therefore wasn’t being affected by having it on its body. That was one less way of fighting back. Great!

At least she’d successfully _stopped_ it, but not for long. As soon as it could see again, it growled and continued its chase. Faye couldn’t keep making burst bombs forever; even without the limiter of an ink tank, creating too many at once would hurt her, and the element of surprise would wear off soon. That meant her only other defence was ‘chairs’, and she didn’t have any time to work out what to do with one, let alone separate one from the pile.

All she could do for now was try and evade and confuse it the best she could, dipping into squid form to dodge aside when it lunged for her. If she could get it to throw itself over the railings like that other one had done, that would be useful. Whether a fall from _this_ height would kill one of them, she didn’t know, but at least it would be out of her way for now. Faye twisted and darted underneath it, feeling the world spin a little when she reformed in front of the rails and held her nerve, hoping her timing would be good enough to evade at the last second.

“ _Squidgy_ , _stop_!”

The voice, the words, did not register at all at first – until the monster actually _obeyed_ , skidding to a halt a few feet in front of her.

It turned its head, looking around with a quiet whine of disappointment.

Faye didn’t dare take her eyes off it, knowing full well how dangerous it could be, but her mind was racing. _What the hell. What the fuck just happened!?_

“No attacking people. That’s _not_ why we’re here.” Then someone was there, holding a hand in front of this giant beast and pushing it backwards, and it just _let_ _them_ _do_ _that_ without trying to attack, obediently stepping back and grumbling as if it was a little upset it wasn’t _allowed_ to eat this inkling.

Then Faye realised she knew who this was, and everything finally started to fall into place.

_Margin!?_

The octoling gave her an incredibly guarded look, nudging the beast further away, her hair twisting and writhing as she did so.

More importantly, she was _controlling_ that thing. It had _listened_ _to_ _her_.

_Oh my COD I’m so STUPID._

“ _You_.” Faye finally found her voice, not hesitating to point her heroshot directly at the octoling, no longer caring that there was an apparently-not-so-feral beast on her side. Of _course_ Margin would show up at the worst possible time to try and kill her, but it was a _very_ poor decision of her to try and do that the one time Faye was armed. “I should have _known_ you had some part in this!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kissie 2 (dire situation version) :]
> 
> It's All Coming Together....


	34. Sides

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warnings: blood, animal injury

There had been times in the metro when Eight had definitely been in danger, when the world had seemed like a dangerous place, but this felt so much different. In the metro, especially when she was escaping, the danger had been on _her_ , and what was saving her was her own survivability – but now it wasn’t just her that was in danger, it was also her teammates and friends and all the _hundreds_ of people inside this building.

She needed to save them, and to do that, she would have to face the danger.

As soon as everyone had their weapons – and Eight witnessed Rollo tear a metal pole from the wall, because ‘it’s sturdier than a roller, trust me, and there’s plenty of damage to the building already so they won’t miss this’ – their groups headed out together. Eight and Arty, Mercedes and Chance, Four and Harper. They travelled as one to begin with for safety, finding out what they were up against, heading for the loudest screams and trying to yell over them for everyone to head to the lockers or bathrooms, stay quiet, and defend.

The first monster they found had followed the crowd and had someone caught in its jaws, ignoring their flailing to try and break free. It didn’t ignore the strong bash of a metal bar against its snout. Another hit had it backing away, and a full charge of a splatling sent it running back out into the arena.

“We need to drive them back out there and shut them off,” Four stated. “Don’t hold back, and use anything you have.”

The person they’d saved was alive and conscious, albeit badly injured, so the team of Merce and Chance was tasked with delivering them to somewhere safe, and all of them kept a mental note to look out for where in the building medical supplies might be stored, hoping it’d be possible to get anyone who was injured to a professional before long. It would be impossible for the emergency services to safely enter the building while there were all these creatures here – and whatever had broken through the roof.

For a short while they travelled as a team of four, struggling to deter another beast until Harper finally attracted its attention and made it chase her out into the arena, almost becoming prey for a whole hoard of them until she just managed to slip away through the near-closed doors the others had pulled to. The creatures threw themselves at the doors, trying to break through, but these were sturdier than the windows of the viewing area.

With many more arena doors to clear and close, they finally split off into their chosen pairs. Arty already looked out of breath. “You and Rollo are so _calm_ about all of this!” he said as they ran. “I think Harper’s just Harper, but— cod. I want your power.”

“I do not think I am calm,” Eight responded, half honestly and half hoping Arty wasn’t picking up on the fact that this wasn’t the first time either of them had been in a horribly dangerous situation. What were the chances of him jumping from ‘you’re not losing your mind in panic right now’ to ‘both of you are secret agents, right’? Hopefully very low.

Their next encounter showed that safety was in fact in numbers, as it was a lot harder to fend off a creature twice your size when there were less things for it to chase. It didn’t care much about their ink, shaking it off, and more than once Eight felt the draft of its jaws snapping dangerously close to her limbs. Arty didn’t have a metal pole to whack this thing with if it grabbed her, and while he was trying his best, he didn’t quite have the bravery to throw himself in range of the teeth and claws of a monster either.

Eight heard something from outside the scuffle, as her stamina started to run low. It sounded like Callie’s voice, and she wondered for a moment if she was hearing things.

“Everyone brace yourselves!” Callie’s voice sounded distant and like it was coming from multiple directions at once. “There’s a big loud noise coming your way! Hope it helps!”

Then the most horrific mic interference sound blasted from the arena, and Eight had to fight to not get thrown off by it. Fortunately the creature chasing her was distracted by it, lifting its head and turning its snout towards the arena.

“Eight, get back!” Arty shouted, the fear still very evident in his voice as he pulled a suction bomb from his ink tank and threw it at the beast.

It looked around as the bomb attached to it, and yelped at the explosion of ink that splattered its scales as well as the nearby floor and walls. That was enough to scare it away from them, scrambling off to chase the new sound it could hear instead.

Eight stood there for a moment, alert but taking a second to catch her breath. Callie must have found her way to the audio controls – hopefully Marie was with her – and was using them to broadcast a loud noise into the arena. If they were lucky, this would overpower the screams from the escaping crowd.

She heard something else, something nearby, the sound of one of those things running, and hurriedly grabbed Arty’s arm to pull him closer to the wall. Both of them pressed themselves as close against it as they could, hoping a nearby battered trophy case would obscure them from the creature’s view, and fortunately it was too invested in chasing the racket to notice them.

“Oh my cod,” Arty muttered under his breath once he’d deemed the thing out of earshot. “That was close.”

“We need to close the doors,” Eight prompted. She didn’t know how soon the sound would stop being interesting to the monsters.

They did so with what felt like more effort than last time, locking the monsters out of this section. As soon as the sliding doors clicked shut, Arty let out a relieved sigh he’d been holding in and leaned back against the door, sliding down it. “I never want to look at a fish again.”

* * *

Margin had not thought too much into what she would do if she saw Agent 3 again, and hoped she just conveniently wouldn’t for the rest of her life now that she knew the truth, because things would _maybe_ be kind of awkward, and there definitely _was_ a part of her that wanted to just let Squidgy have his way and eat her or throw her off a building, but she didn’t want him to fling _himself_ off a building in the process, and since her memory of Agent 3 was _false_ maybe that meant she wasn’t as absolutely terrible and awful as Margin thought.

She was very much starting to doubt that as she had a gun pointed at her. Which… she _thought_ was illegal in the city, so apparently Agent 3 didn’t particularly care for the rules either?

That did not bode well for Margin.

Margin held her hands up defensively, showing she was unarmed as Agent 3 aimed at her threateningly with a look that suggested she had absolutely no qualms about shooting, and Margin _really_ hoped Squidgy would do as she’d said and stay back. He’d definitely sensed that there was _danger_ here, and a quiet growl rumbled in his throat, but Margin wasn’t sure if Agent 3 would take it as a threat of some kind if she made any move to try and reassure him.

“I don’t! I—well—okay maybe this was very _slightly_ my fault,” Margin tried to defend herself, and did not help her case very well. Maybe admitting she was guilty in front of someone with a weapon wasn’t a good idea.

“Call them off. _Right_ _now_.” Agent 3 gave a slight shake of her gun as if to remind Margin she had it, and wasn’t afraid to use it. “Stop the whole attack and maybe I’ll consider _not_ shooting you.”

Squidgy was audibly growling now. He could tell this was a threat. This was one of the few times Margin really wished he was slightly less smart.

She would not be afraid of Agent 3. This was just the squid who had taken on their entire army, mostly alone, and defeated their leader. That sounded like a very reasonable reason to be afraid of her, actually, but Margin was _not_ a coward and she would _not_ be afraid even though she could remember Agent 3 breaking into a fuzzy building and trying to stab her to death.

_But that wasn’t real._

All the rest was, though – including the war-grade ink gun Agent 3 was pointing at her, right now, with her finger over the trigger.

“I—I—I _can’t_!” Margin managed to stammer out. Oh dear _cod_ why did she sound like such a useless frightened child right now? Why hadn’t she just let Squidgy eat Agent 3? That would’ve made her situation infinite times better right now. “Squidgy is the only one that listens to me, I swear! I don’t have any control over the big one!”

Agent 3 gave her an _incredibly_ untrusting glare, which, to be honest, was rather warranted by this point, but it was still _annoying_. “Then make that one leave.”

“He won’t hurt anyone if I’m here, I—”

“ _Make it leave._ ”

Margin managed to give an irritated glare in response. Okay, so Agent 3 didn’t trust her to have a reasonably-sized beast under her control! That wasn’t _her_ fault! Mostly. “Squidgy,” she commanded, trying to work out how on earth she was going to order him to move away when she couldn’t really make any hand signals. Perhaps sending him away would be a good idea, though. She didn’t want him going near the giant. “Go… over there. And stay.” She moved one hand, very slowly, to point across the balcony.

Squidgy stopped growling at the order, watching her movement carefully and tilting his head. He looked at Agent 3 and let out a quiet whine.

“Go. I’ll be fine,” Margin told him, more to convince herself than him since Squidgy wouldn’t understand her words.

His whine turned to a huff, realising she was telling him to do something and what the hand motion was supposed to mean, and slowly trotted away across the balcony area, frequently glancing behind him at his friend as if he was hoping for more orders. He reached the far wall and shuffled his feet, claws tapping on the tiled floor, before finally sitting down with an unhappy grunt.

Okay, so Squidgy was out of the way. Agent 3’s threat wasn’t, though, her gaze switching between the octoling and the beast that listened to her.

“Can you… stop pointing a gun at me now?” Margin muttered. “I did what you said.”

“It’s not _gone_ ,” Agent 3 insisted. “It’s just waiting for you to order it to do something else.”

Squidgy was not an _it_. He was a very respectable and well-behaved boy – sometimes. “I don’t want to leave him on his own.” She decided not to mention the fact where if she _did_ leave him to his own devices, there was a good chance he would decide to hunt down anyone in the building who wasn’t her. Margin wasn’t quite sure how much he’d taken in of the ‘no attacking people’ from a few minutes ago. Would that have been enough to stop him from being a danger to anyone? Probably not. But she’d needed his help to get up here without being attacked by any of the other smaller beasts… “He won’t hurt you.”

Agent 3 laughed at that, but not because she thought it was funny. “Wow! I _wonder_ why I don’t believe _that_!” She motioned down at something, her leg, and Margin realised that Agent 3 sure did have some nasty-looking, claw-like scars there. They looked recent, but not fresh enough to be today.

Margin gave Agent 3 a confused glance, still edged with wariness because she _did_ have a weapon pointed at her. “I don’t… think that could’ve been Squidgy? I mean, unless you went down into Octo Valley, but…”

There was a definite _look_ on Agent 3’s face, a look of someone who was _realising_ something (so she _had_ been in Octo Valley?) but was also completely dumbfounded about it and maybe wanted to say something but doing so would reveal some kind of information – and instead just threw her free hand up in exasperation. “This is useless.” She walked around, so she wasn’t in easy being-shoved-off-the-edge-of-the-building range if Margin was foolish enough to try and attack her, keeping her weapon trained on the octoling. “Tell me everything you know about these things.”

Margin scowled, keeping her hands up. “I can _tell_ you if you stop pointing a _gun_ at me!” Her arms were starting to get tired.

“I have absolutely _no_ _reason_ to trust you!” Agent 3 held her heroshot even more threateningly, somehow. “I’m honestly surprised you haven’t made any effort to kill me, now you’ve stopped your pet fish from having all the fun instead!”

“That wasn’t why I—” Margin stopped herself. Okay, maybe that was totally something she would have done. And, in all honesty, she knew she would have been _very_ happy to know that Squidgy had attacked Agent 3 if she’d actually known about it when it happened. Now she knew everything, though, that was absolutely a bad thing and not working in her favour at all. “I… don’t…” Oh, how on _earth_ was she going to explain this? She didn’t _want_ to say anything to Agent 3. Agent 3 did not deserve to know anything. Margin was honestly not even sure where she herself stood on terms with Agent 3 right now, and would still be perfectly content if she just… died, right this second, but she would rather not be the cause of it. Maybe that was not a great way to feel about someone. At the very least, she probably needed to explain what had caused the change of attitude, or else she was going to be stuck here being threatened until a giant crushed the entire building and all of them with it. “I… found out the memory of you stabbing me was, uh, a fake one Octavio implanted into my brain?”

She didn’t like saying it out loud. That made it more real. She didn’t want it to be real.

Agent 3 stared at her for a long moment. A _very_ long moment. She finally lowered her gun, though it was with a dry laugh. “Oh, great! I am _so glad_ you almost _killed_ me over something that _wasn’t real_!”

Hmm. Margin sure had done that. Everything really would have been a lot easier right now if she had never met Agent 3 before this very moment. “I didn’t know _at the time_!”

“Ah, yes, mhmm, that makes everything _okay_!” Agent 3’s voice was just _dripping_ with sarcasm, but sarcasm was a lot less deadly than a weapon pointed at her, so that would have to do. “ _Cod_ —fine. Whatever. What the fuck are you doing here?”

 _What wonderful language._ She pointed upwards as the giant beast let out another screech, slamming the roof. “Trying to _stop_ that thing?”

“Really? You? Putting yourself in danger for a bunch of inklings? Nah. I ain’t buying that.”

“Look, it has been a _really_ _weird_ day!” Margin waved her arms in exasperation. “And it’s not like _everyone_ in the city is an inkling. If some inklings don’t die in the process that’s just… collateral saving.”

Agent 3 gave her a blank look. “… Fine. There isn’t time to question you about _everything_ , so just tell me anything that might be useful for stopping these monsters.”

“Ah—right.” Margin fought to get her brain to focus on the task at hand, and not how much she really didn’t want to be stranded on a rooftop with Agent 3. She really didn’t know much about the giant mutant, having not seen it since the day she first met Squidgy, but if it was just like him but very big, she had a fair bit to go on… though not much that would be useful for _defeating_ it. “It’s… attracted to sound and smell, and can’t swim.”

“That’s _it_?” Agent 3 groaned after her sentence was clearly finished. “That’s not even _useful_!”

Margin scowled at her. That wasn’t her fault! She’d hardly planned on fighting these things herself when she was doing all her research! Saying anything about this being her plan would absolutely be a death wish right now, so she refrained from saying that out loud. “The big one is in charge of all the little ones, I think. They usually go to it when it calls them back.”

“Okay. Better.” Agent 3 tapped her heroshot against her leg, hopefully because she was _thinking_ and not as a threatening reminder she had the weapon. “Maybe if it gets pissed off enough it’ll call them in to help.”

“I… don’t think it’ll find you much of a threat,” Margin responded slowly, hoping Agent 3 wouldn’t take offense to that in a deciding-to-shoot-her-after-all kind of way.

“Well, at least it might stop trying to destroy the building,” Agent 3 muttered and, to Margin’s surprise, clipped the heroshot back to her belt. She didn’t seem too worried about Margin anymore – and, in fairness, there was a giant monster just above them. Perhaps that was taking priority right now, but did Agent 3 really think she could do anything to stop that beast?

It wasn’t as if Margin had hoped any different herself.

Agent 3 walked to the end of the balcony to where the sheltered area stopped and the wall sloped up onto the roof; there were rungs built into a dip in the wall there, a ladder for maintenance with a sign that permission was needed to use it. She stopped a short way up when she realised Margin was following her. “What do you want _now_?”

“Uh—to go stop that thing? Which you’re currently blocking the only way to.”

“What, you gonna go get yourself eaten? Oh, _feel_ _free_.” Agent 3 said dryly. “If you want to help, you can take your pet fish and get it out of the city before it attacks anyone else. At least that’s one less of them to deal with.”

“He won’t attack anyone!” Margin insisted, knowing that was probably not a convincing argument when Squidgy had almost done that just minutes ago. “I need to do something about this!”

“You don’t need to _do_ _anything_ except stay the hell away from me.”

“Okay, fine!” Margin huffed. “You can’t _stop_ me anyway!”

Agent 3 hesitated for a moment – she was still the one with a weapon here, even if it wasn’t currently in her hands – and then rolled her eyes. “Fine, whatever! You can be an extra target if you’re dead-set on throwing yourself into danger. Just don’t even _think_ about trying anything.”

Clearly Agent 3 still absolutely did not trust her, and the feeling was definitely mutual, but there was no time to care right now, and the agent knew that. “Fine, just keep going already!” Margin ignored the glare Agent 3 threw at her and looked back at Squidgy; he was shifting his front legs impatiently, wanting to follow after her. “Stay, Squidgy!” she ordered.

He looked up at the sound of another cry from the giant beast, and whined. He knew Margin was going near that thing, but he still obediently lowered himself closer to the ground.

Agent 3 was gone from sight when Margin reached the half-hidden ladder, and she scaled it as quickly as she could, soon pulling herself up onto the smooth-looking roof. She could see the giant now, closer than it had ever been before, battering at the edges of the hole it had made in an effort to make it wider. None of the smaller mutants were up here anymore; they’d all jumped down inside to where their prey was.

A few metres away, Agent 3 was taking the time to size up her opponent while it hadn’t yet taken an interest in her. While Margin really did _not_ want to help Agent 3, she didn’t have a choice at this point unless she fell back to her original plan, and that was… unfavourable, at best, now.

“You play turf? Ranked?” Agent 3 asked, unexpectedly.

Margin gave Agent 3 a very confused look. “What does that have to do with—”

“Answer the question. Yes or no.”

“… Yes?”

“What weapon?”

“Uh… kensa splattershot, but I don’t have it with me—”

“Okay, stupid question, I don’t know the sets. What special?”

“Missiles…?”

“Alright.” Agent 3 unclipped something from her belt, tossing it directly at her without even looking.

Margin instinctively dodged so it wouldn’t hit her, because for all she knew that could have been a _splat_ _bomb_ or something, but as she watched the harmless-looking can roll along the roof, she quickly snatched it up before it could escape and fall off the building. It was a special can with an icon for tenta missiles plastered on the side.

“Change to yellow so you don’t get hurt by my ink,” Agent 3 ordered in a way Margin really didn’t like. She did _not_ want to be bossed around by Agent 3.

“I’m not going _yellow_!” she scoffed. That was an _inkling_ colour and a _disgusting_ one at that!

Agent 3 glared at her. “Fine. Die then.” Without another word, she pulled out a set of tenta missiles of her own, quickly fighting to override the aiming system to manually target the non-ink-based enemy in her sight.

The launchers shuddered as they blasted out multiple rockets, the yellow ink shooting through the sky in an arc. A second before they reached it, the giant beast noticed the flash of colour, lifting its head – but not enough to do anything about it, and it let out an angered roar as the missiles exploded in bursts of ink against the side of its face.

That definitely got its attention.

Margin swallowed nervously as she watched the beast violently shake its head from side to side, flicking ink across the roof. The missiles didn’t seem to hurt it at all. She slowly changed her ink colour, fading it into a horrible gross Agent 3 yellow in case any of the flying ink caught her.

Agent 3 showed no fear, charging along the roof, her footsteps making little noise on the metal surface. The ink that had landed on it wasn’t sticking, so it wouldn’t be possible to make a trail to swim in here, but as soon as she was close enough to reach, she drew a suction bomb from her weapon and flung it at the creature, where it latched itself onto the thing’s leg. The explosion had significantly less effect than the missiles, but the beast still shook the ink from its leg angrily, roaring at them. The roof shuddered and groaned as it stood up against it, trying to lean over to where it could reach them.

“Force it back!” Agent 3 yelled, as if Margin really had anything she could use for that.

She had her singular use of missiles, so that was what she went for. They wanted to target Agent 3 (good missiles, but not right now), and it took Margin a second to override that, sending them flying at the beast’s snout instead. It whined and almost fell backwards, snarling and trying to shake off the ink.

Now she had nothing, and Margin regretted not thinking to bring a weapon with her. She wondered if perhaps she could find one inside the building somewhere, but that would take too much _time_. Her only power right now was to be an extra target, so she swallowed her fear and ran directly towards the beast.

“Down here, you _great ugly monster_!” she yelled with the highest volume her lungs would allow.

The beast looked down, saw her running towards it, and lifted one of its front limbs. Margin managed to dive out of the way as it smashed it against the roof, trying to hit her, creating another large dent in the metal that was too close to the edge for it to cave in. It needed to lean on the roof for balance while it was standing on its hind legs, so it couldn’t easily move its claws to the sides to catch her; good. It would be easier to dodge than she’d first hoped.

As to how this would help, she wasn’t sure, but hopefully Agent 3’s idea of making it angry enough to call the smaller ones back would work.

And when they were swarmed with mutants who were all a lot more agile than this one, well… they’d just have to try their best to escape.

The giant looked down at Margin, letting out a growl that felt like an earthquake. It had no fins, no way of emoting like Squidgy could, its whole body smooth like a very short snake that had grown limbs, but it seemed _angry_. That was… a good sign. Out in the sunlight it was easier to see the glint of its tiny eyes, two of them watching her and a third motionless one next to its right one as if mutating had grown it an extra eyeball but couldn’t make it function as a proper eye.

Margin prepared to run again, evade the inevitable swat aimed at her, but a loud noise rising from within the stadium caught the thing’s attention – a horrific high-pitched interference noise that sounded similar to the awful screeching the radio had made when Margin set it up earlier. The giant mutant leaned in again, closer to the hole in the roof where the sound was coming from, reaching out one giant leg to paw at the hole.

“No! Stay _back_!” A torrent of ink rushed against the air as Agent 3 pulled out an inkjet, a powerful special that lifted her to hover above the ground as she took aim with the launcher, blasting a shot towards the creature’s face.

It hit. The giant let out a bellowing yowl, backing away and snarling as another shot bashed the top of its muzzle. It tried to dodge a third, unsuccessfully because it was a massive clumsy beast, and roared, lifting one of its arms.

“Hey! Down _here_!” Margin yelled, but this time the monster didn’t care about the ant at its feet.

Agent 3 had foreseen her inevitable fate, shrinking into squid form and absorbing the inkjet inside to avoid the swipe. It wasn’t enough, and it caught her with the side of its scaly claws. The inky blob of her squid form was punted onto the metal roof where the impact destabilised it, sending her tumbling dangerously close to the three-storey drop into the arena, as the inkjet broke free and stuttered to a halt a few meters away.

One of the special cans rolled away, escaping from her belt in the fall, and as it span to a halt nearby Margin ran to grab it. More tenta missiles.

The giant was screeching out another angered cry, climbing further up onto the roof and causing the structure under it to groan in protest. Cracks split through the metal, shooting out across the side of the roof.

Margin saw Agent 3 struggling to get up, winded after being knocked out of the sky. The ground underneath her was shuddering.

_Ignore her. She’s Agent 3. No matter what really happened, I do not want ANYTHING to do with Agent 3._

_She does have the best resources for defending against this thing, though._

_Ugh. FINE._

Margin sent off the missiles and immediately ran, not waiting to watch if they’d hit their mark since she could tell from the furious noise of the giant. That would at least give them a few extra seconds.

The ground did not feel stable underneath her as she neared the hole in the roof, feeling it tremble and creak beneath her shoes in a very threatening way. Margin did not want to stick around here for long, grabbing Agent 3’s arm as soon as she was within reach. The inkling struggled against her grasp.

“ _Get_ _off_ _me_!”

“I’m trying to _help_ you, squid-for-brains!” Margin snapped, realising that Agent 3 was nowhere near as strong as she’d imagined as she dragged her away from the edge. Had Margin really been _scared_ of her? Cod. Hopefully nobody had ever realised. That was just _embarrassing_. She could push Agent 3 off this roof if she really wanted to, but she was going to be _polite_ today and not do that.

The roof shuddered beneath them again, and Margin heard some of the material at the edges of the hole crumble. She didn’t look back to see if it was where they’d just been or not. Agent 3 might not have been _quite_ as terrible as Margin thought, but she didn’t want to be responsible for saving her life.

The giant beast was shrieking at them again, angered that it couldn’t catch these tiny cephalopods, making another attempt to climb up onto the roof and crush them. Margin didn’t know how to stop it; the ink-based specials did nothing but anger it more, and Agent 3 was going to run out of them eventually – and it didn’t seem like the smaller mutants cared that their leader was getting bullied, so that part of the plan had failed too. Perhaps her only hope for now was to drop Agent 3 here on a slightly safer part of the roof and try to distract it closer to the edge, where its attacks wouldn’t cause the building to collapse on top of a large crowd of people.

The sound of claws scrabbling behind her turned her head, expecting to see one of the smaller ones charging for them after all – but it was Squidgy.

“I told you to _stay_!” she scolded him as he ran past. The only sign of an apology was a few seconds of pause as he glanced back.

Then he looked up at the giant and let out a whine. His fins were flat against his head as he positioned himself in front of Margin.

Protecting her.

“Squidgy…?” she prompted quietly, letting go of Agent 3 since the inkling was capable enough of standing on her own now. Margin decided to ignore the way she backed away cautiously from Squidgy, untrusting of the creature so strange to her.

The giant halted, a quiet and different sound rumbling in its throat. Margin hadn’t spent enough time studying this one to know what any of its sounds might mean, but it was still, for now, watching the smaller creature in front of it. Squidgy took a few steps forward, his tail swishing on the dented metal, letting out some unintelligible sound.

Was he communicating with it? Margin’s hopes soared for the first time since this morning.

This was it! Squidgy could save them! He could tell that thing to leave!

It stood there, watching him walk closer, the way he made sure to keep himself between it and Margin at all times, the twitching of his fins, the bold way he looked up at it even though he was so small and scared.

Margin could tell Squidgy was at least somewhat capable of having emotions – maybe the giant one was too. Perhaps it would pity the smaller creatures and go, stop terrorising them, find something less sentient to eat.

She was wrong.

With a ferocious roar, the giant swooped down its head, rows of massive sharp teeth glinting in the sunlight.

Squidgy yelped and tried to dart aside, to escape, but he wasn’t fast enough.

_No._

_No!_

“ _Squidgy_!” Margin yelled, but her words did nothing to save him as he was caught in the giant’s deadly jaws.

She could _hear_ him, wailing in agony as the giant crunched down on his body.

It ate the smaller ones. Just like she’d seen Squidgy do more than once.

Margin should have sent him away.

He wasn’t giving up yet, even trapped as he was. The giant shrieked again, shaking its head side to side as dark red blood dripped from its mouth from where Squidgy must have slashed at it. It released him, flinging him from its red-stained teeth.

Squidgy didn’t make a sound as he hit the edge of the roof, smearing it with red, and slid limply over the side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :'(  
> Squidgy's a tough boy I'm sure he's okay


	35. The Limit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warnings: blood/violence, mentions of animal death, being attacked by a dog-like animal ???

Every muscle in Faye’s body seemed to hurt, and all she could do was stay standing as she witnessed the events unfold in front of her. She couldn’t tell what was happening, didn’t know if this creature would suddenly turn on them despite Margin’s apparent faith in it, but when it didn’t and met its inevitable fate, Faye could already tell what was about to happen, and she knew she couldn’t let it.

“ _SQUIDGY_!” Margin once again screamed the absolutely _terrible_ name she’d given that monster.

Faye knew, as soon as she saw that creature’s mangled body slide out of sight, that Margin was very likely to do something stupid like jump off the roof in the hopes of saving him, so she reached out to grab her arm and hold her back before she could.

“ _No_!” The octoling turned on her, and Faye was quickly reminded that this wasn’t a friend, this was Margin, who had already tried to kill her once and would _not_ care if she injured Faye in any way in her efforts to escape. There was a look of panic in her eyes – because she was worrying about that beast? Because she was looking at Agent 3? Because she didn’t like people touching her? – as she snatched her arm away, and Faye didn’t put up much resistance for letting her go, but she wasn’t going to let her run off and injure herself for the sake of one of the things currently trying to eat everyone.

“There’s nothing you can do,” Faye stated plainly, her tone more lacking in sympathy than she would’ve liked – but this was Margin, so she didn’t really care that much.

“He’ll _die_!” Margin, to her credit, hadn’t run away once she was freed, but her hair was writhing like an angry eel as she stared at Faye with a distraught expression.

“You can’t change that,” Faye said more quietly. That creature had fallen off a building over three stories high; if being chewed up hadn’t killed him, the fall would. She looked at the giant beast looming over the building, still licking at its gums where ‘Squidgy’ had clawed at the inside of its mouth. “We have to retreat for now. Angering it just makes it hit the building more.”

Margin hesitated for a long moment, her breathing sharp and distressed as she looked with wide eyes at the giant, the smear of blood on the roof, and then back to Faye when the inkling gave up on waiting for her. Faye didn’t really care what Margin did as long as it wasn’t going to put everyone else in danger, which unfortunately was something Margin was very likely to do, but she didn’t have the energy to stop her right now. She just wanted to get out of sight from that thing, to try and think of what she could possibly do about this when her only plan so far hadn’t helped at all.

Climbing down a ladder was more of an arduous task when half her muscles ached, but Faye soon made it back onto the balcony, the closest sheltered and maybe-safe area from that beast, unless it decided to walk around the building to find her, but from the sound and feel of things it had gone back to hitting the roof again. Her interference hadn’t done anything – even made it worse, perhaps. That was so frustrating, and yet she couldn’t think of anything else. Distracting it wouldn’t work, and her weapon and specials weren’t powerful enough to take it down.

What could even be done about this? Evacuate everyone from the city until the monster conveniently decided that little people were boring and left? It wasn’t just a threat to this event; there were hundreds of thousands of people living in Inkopolis, and they would all be in danger from this thing once it lost interest in the arena.

Everything was really hopeless.

Faye let out a long sigh, giving in to her sore muscles and kneeling by the balcony rail, folding her arms on top of it as she looked out over the city and desperately tried to _think_. There had to be something. There had to be _something_.

Margin landed heavily on the balcony floor, her shoes making a loud noise as they connected with the tiles. Faye took a moment to glance back, mostly out of her habitual distrust for Margin, but at least she’d listened and followed her. Instead of trying anything, of making any attempt to speak, the octoling simply dropped to the ground with her back against the wall, sitting against it and hugging her knees as she buried her face in them, her shoulders shaking.

She was crying. It felt like an odd sight, but Faye had to remind herself that at the end of the day, Margin was still a kid. A kid who had just watched their pet fish-beast get brutally mauled to death.

If it were anyone other than Margin, Faye would have a much easier time feeling sympathy for them, but it was hard to do that for someone who had tried to kill her, and then threatened the safety of the person she cared about most.

With no idea what to do or say, if it would even be worth trying to console her, Faye continued looking out over the city and sighed again. She had to think of something. Margin wasn’t going to be any help in that regard right now.

Beneath the monstrous roar and the sound of more of the roof caving in, there was another, different noise rumbling in the air. Faye completely dismissed it at first, a background noise in the panicking city, but as it got louder and nearer and more irritating in her ears she was forced to notice it; some kind of growling sound, from an engine rather than a beast. She lifted her head, looking around to see what the source of it was.

Something was heading their way, something in the sky. It… _looked_ like a helicopter, but as Faye squinted she realised that its entire frame was a dirty rust colour, and it sounded far unhealthier than any vehicle she’d heard before.

“What… _is_ that?”

* * *

He was gone.

Squidgy was gone.

Margin didn’t want to believe it. She was so stupid, she knew letting him anywhere near this place was a bad idea, she should have ordered him to leave when she had the chance – but she’d told him to stay, and he hadn’t listened to her, and that thing had killed him.

He was all she had left. She’d pushed everyone else away for the leader she was nothing more than a lab rat to.

She knew she must have looked pathetic, curled against the wall and sobbing because that was all her body felt capable of doing right now, and it angered her by an inexpressible amount that _Agent_ _3_ was witnessing this, but at the same time nothing mattered and she did not care. It felt like her hair was trying to crush her limbs, like it always seemed to try and do every time she had a strong emotion. Margin hoped it would tear her apart.

She knew she was supposed to be finding a way to stop that giant, but she _couldn’t_. Perhaps her only hope now was to run away and leave it to run its rampage, just like she’d wanted it to, and hope she didn’t get attacked by anything else that might reside outside the city’s barrier.

Agent 3’s muttering grounded her back to the reality which was so awful, and while she couldn’t quite bring herself to care about what Agent 3 was doing, it sounded like she’d spotted something unexpected, and that was either something good or something very bad. There was something Margin could hear, amongst the racket the giant was making and the ringing in her ears, and she wondered for a moment if she was imagining it. She managed to slowly uncurl her hair from her arms, looking up and wiping her damp eyes with the cleanest part of her sleeve.

There was something heading towards them, something in the sky. A helicopter? A very rusty-looking one…

_Miles._

_Miles!?_

Had he actually managed to get that thing _working_!?

Thoroughly distracted by this, Margin abandoned her sulking position, running up and almost catapulting herself over the railing as she grabbed it to get a closer view. She noticed, out of the corner of her eye, Agent 3 startle at her sudden loud appearance, but ignored her.

As the vehicle glided closer through the sky, staying a safe distance above the buildings, Margin could more clearly recognise the rusted frame, the foggy-looking windows, the dented skids – that was definitely Miles’ helicopter. Once it was close enough, she could just see his pale lavender colour in the pilot’s seat.

Miles had never been a particularly brave octoling. Margin was hit by an unexpected feeling of awe that he’d actually had the guts to fly that thing all the way out here with no experience and no way of telling how reliable the ancient thing would be – just faith in his own abilities and hoping a collection of materials from the junkyard would hold together long enough for what he wanted to do with it.

“ _Miles_!” Margin shouted as loudly as she could, waving one arm to let him know they were there.

Agent 3 gave her a shocked look. “Wait—that’s Miles? The—the kid? In the _helicopter_?” She looked absolutely dumbfounded. “How did he manage to get his hands on a _helicopter_?”

“He put it back together! Just like I did with my motorbike.”

“You have a _motorbike_!? You’re not even old enough to drive!”

“It’s… a long story.” Margin did not have the time to explain everything, especially to Agent 3. She continued to wave until she could tell Miles had noticed, and he brought the helicopter in closer, being careful not to let it drift too close to the building. Margin could hear the giant roaring, taking interest in this new loud object, and she immediately knew that Miles was an absolute _genius_.

Well, she’d always known that, but for once she wasn’t thinking of his intelligence as a tool.

“Miles, you can’t stay in one place for long!” Margin struggled to make her voice audible over the helicopter’s whirring blades. “The giant will come after you!”

The helicopter had a helpful device for the noise, fortunately – unless it was just something Miles had the foresight to install himself. He picked up something off the dashboard, something that broadcasted his voice just loud enough for her to hear. “I am hoping I can lead it away?”

“Yes! Great idea.” It felt strange to have a conversation with Miles in inkling, but that was overpowered by the fact he was flying a helicopter.

“I do not know where. Will it stay away somewhere? I don’t have much power.”

Good question. Leading it away from the city was definitely good, but wouldn’t it just go right back because of all the noise? Miles wouldn’t be able to go far, and when he had to land…

Margin had the beginning of an idea, but she didn’t want Miles to have to face that creature alone. “Can you hover near the roof? I can get in and help.”

Miles gave her a look mixed with surprise and relief. “I think, but…”

“The monster,” Agent 3 finished for him. She pointed to a building in the distance, across the car park, one slightly taller than the arena. “I can make you a superjump for up there. It shouldn’t be able to get there if you’re fast, and it probably can’t get up there without climbing.”

“Aren’t superjumps illegal in the city?” Margin gave her a sceptical look.

Agent 3 gave her a blank are-you-really-going-to-start-questioning-the-legality-of-things-now stare. “We’ll have to go back to the roof, but I think that thing’s distracted for now. Just don’t get yourselves killed.” She turned and headed back for the ladder.

Margin glanced at Miles, seeing his amazed look, and she realised _why_ very quickly. “I am not _willingly_ working with Agent 3!” she insisted. “Hover just above that building. I’ll be there in a moment.”

“Right!” Miles nodded, taking a moment to look over his controls again and dragging the helicopter away from the balcony, taking it up to do a quick loop around the arena and distract the beast.

When she reached the roof again, where the giant was watching the high-flying object instead of hitting the building now, Agent 3 had a jump spot set up and was inputting co-ordinates. Margin watched her silently, witnessing the arrow marker appearing in the distance on the building roof, sliding around a little until a safe spot was found. “What are you going to do?” Margin asked.

“I don’t know. Leave it up to you lot I guess,” Agent 3 shrugged. “I don’t fancy getting in a rusty old helicopter piloted by a _child_. I’m not even gonna ask. But there’s not much else I can do against that thing.” She double-checked her setup, and nodded. “You’d better be telling the truth about trying to help.”

“I _am_!” Margin was amazed everything else hadn’t been enough to convince her she was on her side – but Agent 3 simply nodded again, as if she was content with that response. Maybe she was just too tired and hurt to care.

“Okay then. Good luck.” Agent 3 stepped back from the launch pad so she wouldn’t get caught by any flying ink from it, even if it was in her own colour.

Margin had nothing more to say to Agent 3. She glanced across the roof very briefly, seeing the blood, and was hit by a fresh wave of grief. There wasn’t the time for that now – but that was a very good motivator for making this thing _pay_.

Vengeance was a very good motivator for her, apparently.

Never before had Margin experienced a superjump at such a high altitude, and it was a little terrifying to see the ground rushing past so far below, but she landed on the marker with a small splash of ink and no trouble. She didn’t dwell too much on the fact that she’d actually _trusted_ Agent 3 to set up that jump for her properly and not throw her into a wall or a pit or something. Margin was just going to assume she had _tried_ to do that and it was just thanks to Margin’s incredible skill that it hadn’t worked.

The helicopter growled as Miles finished his detour and flew up to the roof she was on, carefully hovering it in place nearby just low enough that she would be able to jump up and grab the bottom of the gap where the door was missing. She did so, fighting her aching muscles after her restless sleep and all the events of the day thus far as she pulled herself up onto the shuddering vehicle. Once she was in, she looked behind, seeing that the giant hadn’t followed them this way. That was… not a _great_ sign.

Now she was here, in the back section of this helicopter Miles was piloting, and there was a somewhat awkward silence between them before he finally spoke up. “ **Where are we going**?”

“ **Past the arena. We’ll guide it to the pier** ,” Margin stated, reaching past his chair to point and making sure she didn’t touch anything in the surrounding area. “ **These things can’t swim**.” Hopefully they would be foolish enough to tunnel vision onto the helicopter so much they walked right off into the water, but if not, at least the pier wasn’t an arena full of people.

“ **Okay** ,” Miles responded, politely and obedient just like he always had been. The floor tilted and swerved as he turned the vehicle back towards the arena, steering it mostly with a large control stick.

Margin held onto the back of the chair for balance as they moved, biting the inside of her cheek. “ **I’m… sorry. About before**.”

“ **Yeah. You, um—you said earlier** ,” Miles responded quietly. “ **Did someone find out** **you were involved in this**?”

“ **No**!” Did he think she was only trying to save everyone so the inklings wouldn’t suspect her or something? “ **I just—Octavio’s back. And I saw him, and—found out everything was a lie.** ”

Miles was quiet for a second. “ **Everything**?”

“ **It’s complicated**.” Margin folded her arms against the headrest, feeling her hair twitching again as she thought about it. “ **Apparently I was a test subject, and it wasn’t Agent 3 who stabbed me. Octavio used the hypnoshades to make me stab myself and then gave me a fake memory.** ”

“ **Oh** …” Miles didn’t seem to have much more of a response to that, either just because it was a _lot_ or because he was also trying to focus on making sure they didn’t fall out of the sky. “ **I’m… sorry.** ”

“ **No. It’s nothing to do with you** ,” Margin muttered, maybe a little too harshly, but she didn’t want her friend(?) pitying her for it. “ **Let’s just focus on getting this thing out of here. We can talk after, I guess. If you want.** ”

“ **Okay**.” Miles gave a small nod. His arms were shaking a lot, Margin noticed – this whole situation must have been incredibly frightening to him.

And yet he’d still been brave enough to bring the helicopter out here, because he’d remembered what Margin said about the mutants being attracted to sound and wanted to help save everyone, even when he had absolutely no obligation to.

“ **Thanks, Miles** ,” she added slowly, hoping that was something he would want to hear. “ **For helping. We’d probably be totally screwed if you hadn’t showed up.”**

**“Y-yeah. I mean—you’re welcome!”** Miles made a very quick glance back, the smallest of smiles on his face at the acknowledgement, even if it was somewhat unusual to hear it from Margin.

As they drew closer to the beast again, Margin reached for the radio receptor, halting with her hand hovering over it for a moment and waiting for permission from Miles just in case she was wrong and picking this thing up would cause them to self-destruct. When he saw what she was doing and gave a small affirmative nod, she plucked it from its stand. “Up here, _ugly_!”

The beast looked up at the noise – thus confirming itself as ugly – and roared, its snout following the helicopter as it watched them pass, lifting one arm away from the building as it continued to fix its intimidating gaze on them.

As soon as they were a short distance from it, though, it lost interest, slamming its claws against the roof once more, more invested in the tub of screaming people than one lonely helicopter passing by.

“No! _No_! _Follow_ _us_!” Margin yelled into the speaker, causing Miles to flinch when he was so close by.

“ **Should I go closer again**?” he asked, the worry becoming more evident in his voice now their plan wasn’t working.

“ **No** — **yes**? – I don’t know!” Margin gave a sigh of exasperation. “Maybe I just need to be louder.”

Miles winced a little, leaning very slightly away from her as he braced himself for the inevitable volume.

Instead, the radio in Margin’s hand crackled.

“ _Did somebody say_ _LOUD_!?”

The voice was so sudden she startled and dropped the device, backing away like a startled fish as her hair flared up. The radio, still untouched because Miles was also staring at the thing in shock, swung from side to side like a pendulum on its wire.

“What—how—” Margin glared at the thing from the safety of behind the pilot’s seat, demanding answers from an inanimate object. “ _Who_ _is_ _this_!?”

She thought she’d recognised the voice, but she wasn’t quite sure from where, and she was definitely very suspicious that it was coming from the radio of an old abandoned-and-rebuilt helicopter. Was it _haunted_? No, no. Ghosts didn’t exist.

“ _MC Princess, yo! In da house—uh, da sky_!”

That really did not answer any of her questions.

“ _Margin! I don’t know WHAT you have to do with this, but I am definitely going to need some answers – including why Miles is with you in a HELICOPTER!?”_

That voice she definitely, absolutely recognised, and she wasn’t sure if she was relieved or filled with dread at the sound of it.

“Marina!?” Margin stared at the radio in horror for a moment – then glanced at Miles. “ **Did you go to her?”**

**“No! No, no, I didn’t, I swear!”** Miles hurriedly shook his head, eyes round with fear as he tried to back away from her while keeping control of the aircraft they were in.

He was scared of her – because of how she’d acted before, when she’d threatened his _life_ just because he wanted to keep people safe.

“ **Right—right, sorry** ,” Margin muttered, trying to keep her hair under control because the flare-squirming thing was probably a little intimidating to him. “Marina, why are—what—how did you…? How are you talking to us?”

“ _You think Rina can’t hack into a heli’ radio system_?” the ‘MC Princess’ person said. Now Margin realised why that voice was familiar. It was the little white-and-pink squid who followed Marina around everywhere.

“ _Pearlie, don’t say it like that_!” Marina protested, the hint of a whine to her words. “ _It sounds sketchy!”_

_“But not in like a SKETCHY way, in a kinda, Marina-is-super-talented-and-beautiful way. Also we totally didn’t hear ANYTHING you just said,”_ Pearl added, before there was a quiet ‘ _oof’_ , probably as Marina gently pushed her away from whatever they were using to communicate.

“ _I’ll be honest. We heard basically everything_ ,” Marina said, honestly, which was something Margin absolutely HATED to hear because didn’t she HATE Marina? “ _And I think we need to have a serious talk, but not right now. We need to deal with that THING first._ ”

“That’s what we’re TRYING to do!” Margin snapped, wishing Marina would actually do something useful instead of _scolding_ her. “It won’t follow us!”

“ _That’s why you need OUR help_!” Pearl cheered enthusiastically. “ _The absolute QUEEN of making noise is on the way!”_

Marina sighed. “ _What Pearlie’s saying is, just—just look to your left._ ”

Margin raised an eyebrow at the radio despite the fact Marina couldn’t see her – hopefully – and did as she asked, leaning over a little so she could see out of the frosty glass of the windshield window.

And there, in the distance, heading their way, she could see a whole fleet of helicopters heading in their direction, led by a large fancy-looking one at the front. She counted seven of them in total, and now they were getting closer, the growling of their engines was starting to become audible over the noise of their own.

“ _Is that loud enough for ya_?” Pearl laughed, and Margin could imagine her doing an annoying grin to accompany her words. “ _I can make it louder! Might blow out my voice in the process, but anythin’ for saving the city. AGAIN, might I add, but don’t tell anyone we already did it once_.”

“I… don’t know. We’ll find out,” Margin said, not asking about whatever Pearl was talking about, but feeling a new hope rising in her chest. Maybe this was it. Perhaps the giant would finally follow them, perhaps they could finally fix this.

If only she didn’t have to lose Squidgy for it. She caught a glimpse of his body, lying on the ground next to the building, and hurriedly had to look away.

Margin took a deep breath, lighting smacking her cheeks to snap herself out of it. Focus. She was doing it for him now, and to a lesser extent, everyone else. This was her fault, and she was going to fix this.

The fleet of helicopters reached the arena, flying overhead, and this time the absolute racket of all the engines drew the giant beast’s attention. It looked up, turning towards them, letting out one of its ear-splitting roars that almost rivalled the helicopters, and that strange huffing noise Margin had heard it make a few times before. This time, it turned, dropping its front limbs down from the side of the arena building at long last.

It opened its jaws and let out a high-pitched cry, a different one this time, as it stepped towards them.

“It’s doing it—it’s moving!” Margin called out, relief evident in her voice.

A few moments later, she saw one of the smaller beasts pop out of the hole in the roof, scrambling to climb up. Then another.

The giant beast was moving, and it was calling its disciples to follow.

“ _Yes_!” Margin cheered. She hopped on the spot, finally stopping to point in the vague direction of the water. “ **Miles, let’s go! That way!** ”

“ **Right**!” He gave an enthusiastic nod, looking energetic now that there was evidence that things were finally going in their favour. “ **Marina, we will lead the way**!”

* * *

When there were lots of noisy flying objects passing overhead, a giant monster did not care about one tiny inkling on the far side of the building, and just because she still didn’t one-hundred-percent trust Margin, Faye opted to wait and watch what happened after she disabled the used launch pad. She was surprised to see more helicopters appear, and they looked vaguely familiar to her, from the memory of the world being fuzzy and painful when she’d first woken up with the entire right side of her face burning. That was the fleet Pearl and Marina had guided around and used to defeat the statue Faye had been told about, the one she’d only seen in pieces in the ocean when she regained consciousness.

So this was what they’d been talking about when they said they were going to try and help. This looked like the most helpful thing so far; the giant was following the noise, screeching out one of its awful sounds, and as it turned and left, the smaller monsters inside the building climbed back up the seats and bars of the roof structure to follow after it. They swarmed out, not noticing her on the other side of the roof, focussed on following their leader as they each hesitated briefly at the edge of the roof to find the safest way back down to the ground.

They were leaving. Perhaps the city wasn’t safe just yet, with a mob of feral beasts being led through it, but there would be significantly less danger when they were moving, especially if their attention was on the out-of-reach helicopters.

Faye finally allowed herself to let out the breath she’d been holding, giving in to how weak her body felt as she fell to her knees. It was over. At last. Hopefully Marie was still safe.

A grunting noise caught her attention, and Faye looked up to see one of the smaller creatures looking at her across the gap. It was thin, bony and had a face that resembled a crocodile, and it was watching her very intently.

Another cry from the giant echoed through the streets, and it glanced around.

_Go on. Your leader is calling you. Follow after it!_

This one had decided it didn’t care. It shook its head, let out an excited yowl, and took off across the rooftop.

_No!_

Her chest tight with panic after she thought the danger was over, Faye fought her tired and aching body in order to pull herself back to her feet. She had to run. She didn’t know where. She was on the roof of a building. It would catch her if she tried to find the ladder.

Would she just have to jump and hope her squid form could handle a fall from three stories high?

That was better than being mauled to death by a monster.

Faye’s heartbeats pounded in her chest as she ran, and her legs threatened to give way beneath her. Her head hurt so badly by now. She was exhausted. It felt like she might pass out at any second, but she had to hold on, just until she was away from this thing.

She wasn’t fast enough.

Sharp teeth sank into her left arm and Faye couldn’t stifle her cry of pain and fear as burning agony shot through it. The monster yanked her backwards, blasting a tearing pain through her shoulder too as she was almost lifted off the ground.

“ _Let go! LET GO OF ME_!” Faye screamed, lashing out at the thing as hard as she could. Tears burned her eyes when she forced them to stay open. She punched the creature’s snout as hard as she could with her free arm, trying to kick at its legs because that was all she could reach.

It didn’t like being attacked by its prey, but it was too stubborn to let go. Its jaws seemed to close even tighter around her as it backed up, as if that would make the attacks from the thing it was holding in its mouth go away.

Faye could feel her consciousness swimming in and out, see her sleeve getting stained with blood that she couldn’t feel leaving her body anymore.

_Just stop._

_Please._

_Just make it stop already._

A loud groaning crack split through the air as the monster took one step too far, and another section of the shattered roof gave in under its weight.

Metal groaned and snapped and sparked. Faye knew, faintly, that she was no longer trapped in the monster’s jaws, was dimly aware of a metal bar connecting painfully with her side before it collapsed from the impact, distantly heard the sound of pieces of the broken roof crashing to the ground below.

Then the air was rushing past her, and she couldn’t do anything about it.

There was a quiet voice in her fading mind, one that told her she couldn’t make it out of this, that _this is what he went through because of you and this is what you deserve,_ but it was quickly silenced by the approaching ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Faye confirmed tasty?
> 
> Miles sure does show up at a convenient time but the helicopter has existed for the whole story purely for this scene. Congratulations Miles, your biggest achievement has been a plot device all along!


	36. Saviour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warnings: blood/injury, drowning ??

It looked like everything was going okay, and Marie should have known by now that she could never, under any circumstances, let her guard down.

She’d heard the chuffing of helicopter blades, and despite having no idea who the source was – though she could hazard a guess — that seemed to have attracted the attention of the giant, and she watched as the smaller ones climbed out of the hole in the roof to follow after their leader which Marie was perfectly _fine_ with not laying her eyes on. With the monsters all gone, hopefully, they were finally able to stop broadcasting the repeated interference noise into the arena. Callie’s plan seemed to have worked; there had definitely been a lot more of them in there once the racket started.

Just as it looked like they were in the clear, more of the roof collapsed. Marie’s gaze snapped to the falling rubble, seeing that one of the monsters was among it and hoping there wasn’t a fresh wave, and that this one had just stepped on a fragile part of the damage.

Then she saw yellow.

_No._

_“No!”_ she cried out, glad the mics were off now as she almost threw herself at the window, as if pressing her hands against the glass would do anything to stop what she could see unfolding in front of her.

_Faye!_

There was nothing to catch her other than a pile of rubble after the massive fall from the roof.

Could she even survive that?

_Please, please…_

She had to.

There was no sign of movement as both inkling and beast were buried underneath more metal and plaster. The big display in the centre of the arena jolted, sparks fizzing from its screens as the electronics were severed. It wasn’t falling, yet, but it was beginning to hang precariously.

“ _FAYE_!” Marie yelled, uselessly, knowing there was absolutely nothing she could do from so far away other than punch the sturdy glass.

_You promised you’d be careful._

_I can’t lose you._

A sob made its way out of her throat. Why could she never do anything to _help_?

She was only dimly aware of Callie placing a hand on her shoulder. Marie didn’t react.

“If there’s any of those things left in the building, can you still run from them?”

“Wha…?” Marie turned to look at her with a hopeless gaze, wiping the dampness from her cheeks with one of her gloves.

Callie looked just as scared and worried as she was. Faye was her friend too, if not quite in the same way, but she was much slower to give up. Determination burned in her gaze. “We have to find a way to help her, but it might be dangerous.”

“I don’t care,” Marie responded quickly. “About the danger part. She saved us. More than once.”

“Right!” Callie nodded assuredly, grabbing a hold of Marie’s hand in the way she always did when she was about to drag her cousin around somewhere. “Let’s go!”

* * *

As the noise attracted the monsters back out into the arena, Eight and Arty made use of their time by patrolling the halls to make sure they were all gone. It wasn’t long before they caught up with the others, who were doing the same thing, and pair by pair the two league teams ended up back together, safety in numbers even though it seemed like the danger was mostly contained by now. Fortunately nobody in their group had picked up any injuries, though most of them looked a little shaken, except for Four, who was used to agent work, and Harper, who was just… Harper.

Eight could hear noises overhead, and what sounded like helicopters, and maybe the monsters getting further away – she didn’t know for certain, but she had a feeling that meant Pearl and Marina were here after all, maybe even saving them! She wasn’t going to tell the others the idols were involved, though. It was easier to hear what was happening in the arena now the crowds were safe and the screaming had mostly stopped.

“Are they gone?” Ada asked quietly.

“Not sure,” Four responded. “We can go look, but everyone stay as quiet as possible.”

The nearest place of visibility to where they were was the viewing room Eight and her team had been in before the attack. The door had been torn off its hinges, and hopefully the monster responsible was pushed back with the rest of them by now.

Eight peered into the room with the shattered window just in time to see one of the monsters and a large section of the roof collapse into the centre of the arena.

Three fell with them.

“ _Three_!” The warning about being quiet was completely thrown aside as Eight burst into the room, running to jump through the shattered glass and narrowly avoiding the shards that lay threateningly on the ground.

“Eight, come back!” Mercedes called after her, but she ignored her captain.

The arena was empty and Eight’s shoes squeaked on the scratched-up floor as she ran, panic rising in her chest. Had Three been on the roof? She must have been trying to deal with the one destroying the building.

The roof was a long way up. That had been a long fall.

Metal groaned and dust settled down to the ground. Eight stopped a metre away from the debris, pacing around it as she searched for any sign of her friend. “Three?” There was no response to her call. Eight tried to push aside the largest sheet of metal that was blocking most of the pile, but it wouldn’t budge.

She had to get Three out of there!

“You’re sure she’s under here?” Four asked, his voice making Eight jump when she didn’t realise he’d followed her out here.

“I am sure,” Eight nodded, knowing he hadn’t seen the collapse. “I-I don’t know if… if she is…”

_Alive_.

Three couldn’t be dead. She was the strongest person Eight knew.

“Alright.” Four took a moment to inspect the wreckage, cautious but moving fast, and made his own attempt at moving the large metal slab. He was stronger than Eight was, but not strong enough to lift it on his own. After a second he gave up, and looked upwards to the display hanging above them.

It was sparking, hanging a little lopsidedly from its supports. There was a big chance it might fall.

If the drop from the roof hadn’t killed Three, that would definitely finish the job.

“We have to move fast,” Four stated. He looked over at the group who had trailed more warily after them. “Faye’s under here; help me lift this!”

Mercedes was one of the first to step forward to help, her gaze filling with concern once she realised what was wrong. “Right.” She gave a worried look at the screen above and tested her grip on the metal. “Eight, if we can hold this up, can you go under and get her out?”

She could absolutely do that. Eight nodded firmly, a stark contrast to how much her hands were shaking. “I can.” She would do anything to save Three.

“Thank you.” Merce gave her sympathetic smile. She and Four began their attempt to lift the heavy metal object, and it was clearly an effort. “Everyone, help out!”

Eight wanted so badly to join in, but she knew her job was different. The others swiftly passed her, and Eight was relieved to see Delilah immediately join in on the task this time, not stopping to debate the order of her ex-girlfriend out of spite when it was so clear Three’s life was in danger. With everyone working together to lift it, the sheet finally started to rise, scraping painfully against some of the metal bars it was covering. There were big enough gaps for Eight to squeeze through the rubble in octopus form, but if Three was injured she wouldn’t be able to get her back out that way.

There were more footsteps from behind, and Eight glanced around with slight fear in her gaze in case it was a remaining one of those monsters despite sounding far too quiet; she was relieved to see Callie and Marie heading towards them.

“We’ll help too!” Callie announced, hurrying over to join the lifting group.

Eight just barely witnessed Harper looking at the Squid Sisters with a look of awe, removing one hand from the metal for a moment to nudge Ada’s arm. Ada followed her glance and said a quiet but good-natured “not the time, Harper”.

As she passed to try and help as best she could despite having significantly less physical strength than her cousin, Marie exchanged a quick glance with Eight, a look the octoling understood so easily she might as well have read her mind.

_Save her._

Eight gave a wordless nod, finally shifting into octopus form and hopping into the first gap she could see.

In here, it was dark and dusty, and everything around her groaned and shifted, a sign that the pile could decide to crash down on her at a moment’s notice. Eight slipped through the spaces she could find, navigating the pile for her injured friend, knowing every second counted. She blinked the dust out of her eyes, barely able to open them as she slithered between the unsteady rubble.

In the gloom, she realised there were teeth right next to her, and hurriedly drew back with a squeak.

It was the monster that had fallen from the roof. It didn’t react to the movement or sound, and its jaws were splayed where it lay limply. As Eight’s eyes adjusted to the dim light, she realised one of the metal bars had impaled its side, and felt a little ill.

She also caught sight of yellow, at last. Three wasn’t far from the creature, close enough that there was a good chance the monster’s body had taken some of the impact for her if she’d landed on it, lying on her side. One of the bars had landed over her, but it was a light one that Eight easily managed to push aside when she found the space to change back into octoling form.

“Three?” she said quietly, placing a hand on the inkling’s shoulder and giving it a gentle shake. This was so similar to just a few days ago when one of those monsters had attacked her at the cabin – but this time Three didn’t respond, not even with a pained groan. She was out cold.

Eight bit the inside of her cheek, trying to force the terrified tears she could feel building in her eyes to stop. She had to get her out of here. That was the most important thing right now.

She wanted to just pick Three up like she’d done before, but there wasn’t enough room for her to do that here, so the only option was to get her arms under Three’s and half-drag her out until she was away from the wreckage. It was difficult, and Eight tried to make absolutely sure she wasn’t injuring Three any further; she could feel one of her sleeves getting damp, so one of Three’s arms must have been bleeding badly.

Soon, the light of the gap the others had made was clear in her path, and Eight managed to lift Three now that there was more room, careful not to trip on any rogue pieces of the roof. Once they were out, no longer at risk of being crushed by the pile, Eight felt her knees threatening to give out under her and made sure to sit down on her legs before she could collapse, partially setting Three down in front of her, not willing to let go just yet.

Three was still unresponsive, and now they were out in the light, Eight could see that her left arm looked _mauled_ , which must have been that creature’s doing and immediately made Eight feel infinitely less sympathy for it. She couldn’t see any other obvious injuries, but it was impossible to tell if the fall had damaged anything inside her body.

If she wasn’t injured, she would be awake.

The large metal sheet made a _clang_ as the others let go and it fell back onto the pile, scraping at the ground and finding its place to settle for now. Eight could sense everyone beginning to crowd around, mostly keeping their distance from the injured squid, and she looked up at them in a silent beg for help.

Four was the one to approach, kneeling down next to them and lifting Three’s non-mangled arm, holding a hand to her wrist. He let out a sigh of relief that Eight felt in her entire body. “She’s alive. Just.”

“We need to get her to a paramedic or something as soon as possible,” Mercedes added. “I hope there’s some on their way.”

“There should be. I hope. We all need to get away from here, either way.” Four looked up at the display again; it shuddered a little, as if reading their minds.

He carefully reached down to pick up Three in his arms, and thinking about how much Three would complain about that if she were awake was enough to finally let the faintest spark of relief into Eight’s mind. Three was alive; she was a fighter, and Eight hoped she would be okay after this, no matter how low of a bar _okay_ might be.

As their group backed away from the ominously-hanging display, Eight cast a glance at Callie and Marie, who were no doubt trying to mask any recognition they had for Three. Callie was doing a pretty good job of it, but Marie seemed to be leaning heavily on her cousin, like she was struggling to stay standing on her own. Her eyes didn’t match her exhausted exterior, though; they gleamed with relief much like Eight’s did.

Perhaps, finally, they were all safe.

* * *

The helicopter engine growled angrily and blades whirred overhead as two young octolings in a worn-down machine led a parade of helicopters above the city, trailed by the most giant and ferocious monster any of its citizens had ever seen. Margin tried to calculate what the safest route would be, based on how close together or destructible-looking the buildings ahead of them were, but the glint of reflected sunlight in the distance grew closer by the second as they approached the wide expanse of water at the edge of the city.

The giant followed after them, yowling and huffing as it couldn’t quite reach the noisy flying things it so wanted to get to, and the smaller creatures scrambled after it obediently, sniffing at empty shops and vehicles and knocking over trash cans in their excited wake. There wasn’t a person in the streets, everyone having gotten the message of _there are dangerous monsters in the city_ and hiding where the beasts couldn’t easily find them as they passed through.

“We’re almost there!” Margin cheered as they reached the open promenade. Far down the shoreline from here, where the river gave way to the ocean, she could see the decommissioned ship Manta Maria, but right in front of them was the large wooden pier that served mostly as a scenic spot for tourists. Fortunately there were no tourists here right at this moment. “ **Can you bring us down a little lower?** ”

“ **Lower**?” Miles repeated with a worried tone in his voice.

“ **We want them to follow us off the end of the pier – or have the pier collapse under them. Either will do.** ” Margin knew these things couldn’t swim, knew they would certainly drown when they fell in, and there was a small part of her that felt guilty about that, especially when she’d led them here in the first place. Even one of those things could kill so many people when loose in the city, so there wasn’t much choice.

The giant, though, she didn’t feel any remorse for. It had killed Squidgy. It deserved to drown in a river for that.

Miles did as she asked, bringing them a little closer to the pier, and Margin moved further back in the helicopter’s cargo space to watch out the missing side door gap as they slowly drifted forwards, giving the giant more of a chance to catch up with them as they closed in on the edge of the pier. The wood creaked and snapped under it as it followed them, sending some of the smaller mutants splashing into the water below, but it either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

Then they were above the gentle waves. The giant hesitated at the end of the pier, standing up onto its hind legs in a final attempt to reach their helicopter.

The wood supports finally gave in under its weight and loudly snapped, sending half the pier and the creatures on it crashing into the deep water.

“ **Yes**!” Margin did a little hop in place as she watched them disappear under the water, careful not to lose her balance and go plummeting in after them. “ **It worked! Miles, it worked!** ”

“ **Did it?** ” She could see Miles cautiously lean over a little in his seat to look beneath them through the chipped windows. “ **Are they gone?** ”

“ **They’d better be!** ” Margin looked back out at the now-more-violent waves, the wind from the helicopter blades causing her hair to whip at her face. It looked like a struggle below, as the creatures tried to swim and failed, but they were doomed by the waves. She aimed a contempt huff in their direction, something definitely lost on the drowning creatures.

And yet… there seemed to be movement below the surface. Margin squinted at the water, hoping she wasn’t seeing what she _thought_ she was seeing.

There was a shadow in the water, moving, moving up towards them.

_WHY does the big one have to be able to SWIM!?_

“Up, _up, pull up_!” she shouted urgently.

Her words came out in inkling but Miles understood them well enough, letting out a quiet wail of fear as he scrambled to do as she asked, and the helicopter unevenly dragged itself upwards just as the beast burst from the surface of the water. Margin just barely managed to keep her balance, and she swore she could smell its breath as its jaws snapped shut just metres below the shuddering floor she stood on.

And, as it started to fall back down, a new sound emanated from its body – and Margin saw the circular hole on the top of its head.

_A blowhole._

_It’s a WHALE!?_

_That’s what that huffing noise it keeps making is._

No sooner had she realised that than a fierce spout of water blasted from the creature’s head. Margin backed away from the door so quickly that she stumbled against the wall on the opposite side, right as the powerful spray splashed against the outside of the helicopter.

It lurched horribly. A new, terrible screeching sound started up as the downpours-worth of water splashed into the blades, and this contraption was so old and minimally rebuilt that it was likely able to get into the engine too.

That wasn’t good.

“ **Margin**!” Miles cried out in fear, desperately trying to get control back. He had it, for now, but the noises were getting worse.

“ **I—I’m okay,** ” Margin reassured him, climbing up from the floor of the helicopter and trying to avoid the droplets from the ceiling where the water had splashed the inside. This was bad. This was very bad. They were probably in a substantial amount of danger right now, in a rusty old helicopter that was now waterlogged and almost certainly going down, and was about to dump them into a very deep and very wide river, directly in the path of an angry giant beast.

They had to get out of here, somehow, but if they jumped out they would also fall into the water and drown, if they didn’t get eaten first. Margin saw a box built into the wall and looked inside, hoping for anything that might help.

“ **Margin, I don’t—I don’t think this thing can continue flying for long, it’s not going to make it to the other side, I-I don’t even know if I can make it _turn back_**!” Miles’ voice rose to a frightened wail.

“ **It’s okay—we’ll be okay, I’ll think of something,** ” Margin tried to reassure him, and probably didn’t do a very good job of it since she didn’t entirely believe it herself. She could hear the radio crackling, as if Marina was trying to get through, but the helicopter’s power was dying and the voices were too broken up to decipher.

Fortunately, there was still some equipment in here – Miles either hadn’t removed it in the first place, or he’d put it back when he reassembled the helicopter. There wasn’t much, though, and the only thing that was useful to them was a single life jacket. Margin pulled it out and checked it over quickly, relieved that it seemed mostly intact.

“ **Margin, wh-what should I do?** ” Miles begged, looking over the back of the chair at her. Tears were running down the unscarred side of his face.

Miles wasn’t a soldier. He’d barely even had any training. He wasn’t used to dangerous situations like this, not ones where his life was in danger.

He was only in this situation because of her. This was all her fault.

Margin looked down at the life jacket in her hands for a long moment. “… **You should put this on** ,” she stated eventually, holding it out to him.

He gave her a fearful look, but still scrambled out of the seat to hold it in his hands, staring at it wide-eyed. “ **Th-there’s only one of them though. What about you**?”

“ **I’ll be _fine_. We just—we jump out, and hold onto each other or something, and swim back to the shore.**” Margin gave as big and reassuring a smile as she could manage. “ **These things are made to hold big adults anyhow. It can take our weight.** ”

Miles listened to her words with an incredibly nervous look, doing as she asked anyway and sliding the jacket on because he knew they didn’t have time to waste. “ **Are you sure?** ” He did not sound sure at all.

“ **Positive**.” Margin placed her hands on his shoulders. “ **I know I didn’t do a good job of this before, but… I need you to trust me.** ”

He flinched, just a little, but nodded. At least he was starting to calm down, even if he still looked very afraid at the thought of jumping off a helicopter into deep water. “ **O-okay.** ”

“ **Good**.” Margin found a genuine smile appearing on her face, and she carefully nudged him in the direction of the open door. _I’m sorry._ She held onto the shoulders of the jacket he was wearing as feigned reassurance. “ **Count to three, okay? Then we’ll jump.** ”

“ **O-o-okay** ,” Miles responded shakily with a small nod. He looked warily at the waves below and took a deep breath, closing his eye. “ **O-one… two... thr—**.”

Margin let go of the jacket, placed her hands on his shoulders, and shoved him over the side.

His terrified scream quickly disappeared under the struggling noises of the helicopter, but there was no time to wait and listen. The life jacket would keep him afloat in the water, and Margin needed to get that monster away from him as soon as possible.

Then he would be safe.

Margin darted across the shaking vehicle and leaped into the pilot’s seat. She had absolutely no idea how to fly this thing, but she’d seen Miles using the lever to control it, and that seemed like her best bet. She pulled it strongly to one side, and the helicopter tilted violently to the right, its engine growling and screeching unhappily as it struggled to stay in the air.

She looked out the windows and saw the giant mutant turning to follow the noise. She also saw, slightly further away, a small shape appear on the water’s surface; Miles. He was floating. That meant he would be safe. Marina or someone else in one of the other helicopters would be able to get him out of the water.

Now there was just one other major problem, and Margin was sitting in just the weapon to deal with it.

_Sorry about your helicopter, Miles, but I don’t think you’ll be able to salvage it anyway if it falls into the river._

Margin felt the calmest she had all day as she dragged the helicopter as far as she thought it might be able to handle, far enough that Miles would be at a safe distance. The giant yowled and roared as it swam along the surface after her, lifting its head up in the hopes to reach the noisy thing it wanted.

“You’re going to get _exactly_ what you want,” Margin muttered quietly, her voice full of resolute venom, as she struggled to force the helicopter to turn around.

She faced the creature head-on as it sensed her getting closer, trying to rise up out of the waves again, screeching loudly as more water bubbled out of the hole on its head.

Margin pushed the control stick forwards, setting the helicopter on its path.

_You’re getting what you deserve._

She knew she couldn’t survive this. There was no reason for her to. There was nothing left for her. No friends, no home, no Squidgy. She’d ruined everything.

She was afraid.

She didn’t care.

“ _Margin_!” Marina’s voice crackled on the radio, only just audible, as she realised what was happening. “ _MARGIN_!”

Margin ignored her.

As she saw the creature approaching fast, heard the horrible sound the helicopter made as it was pushed way too much and threatened to fall out of the sky, one tiny spark of Margin’s survival instinct remained, and she jumped out of the seat, running up the slanted floor to the gap in the side of the vehicle.

There was nothing below her but water. Any hope of surviving was immediately dashed, and she realised as soon as she jumped – but that was okay.

The helicopter collided with the beast’s head, and the sound of the explosion drowned out the monster’s shriek of pain.

It drowned out everything.

The blast knocked her out before she hit the water.

* * *

Margin had lied to him.

_Again_.

He didn’t understand.

Miles burst from the surface of the water as the jacket dragged him up, coughing on the small amount of water he’d managed to inhale because he’d never been _underwater_ before. The waves thrashed strongly around him, far stronger than the normally placid water around the city, stirred up by the giant monster swimming through them as it chased after the helicopter, which was struggling to stay airborne.

And, unless Margin had actually jumped out – in which case, he didn’t have a clue where she was – she was still in it. It was proven a moment later as it veered sideways, something it wouldn’t have been able to do unless someone was controlling it.

What was she doing? If Margin had been lying all day, if she just wanted a new way to control that beast, the helicopter wasn’t going to last long enough to even make it back over land.

Then he saw it go on a course directly towards the beast, and suddenly he understood exactly what Margin’s plan had been.

How incredibly reckless it was.

“Margin!” he yelled, water choking his voice and making words hard.

Maybe Margin had been awful to him, threatened him, _used_ him like she loved to claim the inklings would.

That didn’t mean she deserved to die.

Swimming was difficult, especially when you had no prior experience of it, and Miles ended up thrashing uselessly in the water as he tried to get closer. The explosion when the helicopter collided with the beast seemed to turn all the surroundings orange, and he could’ve sworn he saw Margin jump from the vehicle just beforehand, but that wouldn’t be enough to save her, and there was so much _stuff_ splashing into the waves, terrifyingly close by, that he couldn’t tell if Margin was somewhere among it all or not.

The giant beast crashed back down into the water. It wasn’t swimming anymore. Miles didn’t want to look for too long, but it was slowly starting to sink under the waves, and the water around its head looked to be changing colour – an explosion directly on its face had either knocked it out or killed it, and hopefully it was the latter so it wouldn’t come back.

That meant Margin’s plan had worked. She’d done it. She’d defeated the beast.

So where _was_ she!?

* * *

Marina had been _concerned_ ever since she first saw that monster, and had been _significantly_ _more_ _worried_ when she realised Margin was somehow involved and maybe even behind this, and also that Miles had managed to get access to a helicopter. She’d decided to put a little trust in them, but now she was getting worried that may have been a massive mistake on her part.

Especially when she saw Miles fall from the helicopter, and the only thing proving that he wasn’t about to fall to his death was the fluorescent orange of the jacket he was wearing.

After that, Marina had tried desperately to contact the radio in that old helicopter again, which was already struggling after being sprayed with water, but either she wasn’t getting through or Margin was straight-up ignoring her – which wouldn’t be unusual. Marina didn’t know what she was trying to do. Why hadn’t she jumped out as well? Even if there was only one life jacket onboard, it might have at least been enough to keep both of them close enough to the surface for air until someone could get them out of the water.

Then the helicopter had turned, and Marina had understood, and she’d tried to stop Margin, but it was a fruitless effort.

As soon as she saw the explosion, saw the young octoling falling from the sky and into the water, Marina knew she couldn’t sit by and do nothing.

She ordered their pilot to hover above where the explosion happened and pulled the rope free on the winch just inside the door of their open-sided helicopter. Pearl followed after her, looking worried about the fact she couldn’t tell what her girlfriend’s plan was. “Rina?”

“Two minutes,” Marina responded simply.

“What?”

“That’s how long the average person can hold their breath.” Marina was in pretty good health; she could do that. She looped the rope safely around her midsection. “If I’m not back at the surface in two minutes I need you to pull me back up. Otherwise, I’ll just… pull really hard on the rope when I find her.”

“Wait, what?” Pearl repeated again to further emphasise her concern, but Marina didn’t have the time to let Pearl talk her out of this. She gave her short girlfriend a quick kiss, which wasn’t enough to stun her out of her complaints. “Marina!”

Marina didn’t wait around any longer, hesitating for just a brief moment at the door of the helicopter to make sure she wouldn’t throw herself directly onto any floating parts of the broken helicopter, took a deep breath, and jumped.

A long fall, out of a helicopter and into water, was kind of terrifying, but Marina wasn’t a stranger to fear. She had to fight her body to not release all the air she’d taken in when she plunged through the surface, feeling a small shard of metal slice at her arm but nothing serious. The long fall made her quickly sink deeper, her descent eventually slowing down to a gradual one. Octolings couldn’t float.

She’d been worried, at first, that it would be difficult to find Margin under here, especially with all the scattered wreckage. She was more worried when she realised there was a very obvious cloud of blue for her to follow.

Marina swam down towards it, realising as soon as she was close that Margin was unconscious and prayed that she hadn’t inhaled too much water already, if she was even alive in the first place. The damage was too difficult to scale, deep in the murky river, and there wasn’t time to think about it. Marina wrapped an arm around her, using her free hand to pull as hard as she could on the slack rope.

_Come on, Pearlie. I need you._

There was a moment of nothing – and then the rope above her began to straighten out as the winch system was activated, soon pulling the both of them back up.

As soon as she was back at the surface, Marina gasped for breath, feeling the relief in her lungs. She looked around, seeing Miles trying to splash towards them; the life jacket was doing a good job of keeping him afloat, and he didn’t seem to have been injured by the explosion. “I’ll have someone come get you in just a moment, Miles!” she called to him a little breathlessly, feeling the injured passenger in her arms get heavier now they were out of the water.

He saw Margin’s limp form and immediately made his best attempt at a nod.

The fact that Margin hadn’t reacted at all to being brought out of the water – no gasp for breath, no coughing up water – was very worrying. Marina still couldn’t tell what the extent of her injuries was, but she hoped it wasn’t already too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this chapter was originally going to end on a cliffhanger... but due to this being The End Of What We See Of This Day this was a better place to end it
> 
> everyone is okay, sort of?? (we haven't had a Confirmed death yet.....)


	37. Haven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings: hospitals, mentions of injuries/IVs, dissociation??, parental abuse / manipulation, very very mild self harm????
> 
> Anyway guess who we're going to meet this chapter (take care please)

Inkopolis was not going to forget the events of the past few days for a long, long time. An attack from a colossal beast and its swarm of followers – it sounded like something out of a sci-fi movie, and Marina would have believed it was just a dream if not for how involved she still felt.

Everything was a crushing stress on her shoulders as she tried to keep up with all the information, and it took Pearl dragging her out for a walk and some fresh air for her to finally remember she was supposed to pick up her refill of hormones almost a week ago now, because with the tournament and everything else it had slipped her mind. She used this as an excuse to visit the hospital at last, which wasn’t too far from the pharmacist. It was a chance for her to pick up some antibiotics as well; the scratch on her arm was still stinging a few days later, and her eyes were dry and blue-tinted, most likely conjunctivitis. The water surrounding the city wasn’t the cleanest, especially when there were a bunch of dead monsters in it.

The underlying smell of cleanliness in the hospital was always a little unnerving, and Marina felt relieved Pearl was here to hold her hand as she walked up to the reception desk and asked about Margin. It didn’t help that the receptionist’s eyebrows rose with stunned recognition when she showed her ID, but at least they were professional enough to push it aside for now.

“Can I ask what relation you are to her?” they questioned, a safety barrier necessary for protecting their patients.

“Um… sort of a guardian, I guess,” Marina answered honestly. “It’s kind of complicated.”

“Octoling things,” Pearl added semi-helpfully.

“Ah, I see,” the receptionist nodded. They looked at their computer screen for a moment. “I… might have to call one of the nurses for you.”

That probably wasn’t a great sign.

It wasn’t long before a dainty-looking fish nurse came to guide the two of them through the hospital. “She was unconscious for a long time, and we had to remove a lot of water from her lungs,” she explained quietly once they were away from the waiting room. “We’ve… been keeping her sedated for now, until her condition is more stable. She was awake for a short while yesterday and tried to attack one of the doctors checking on her. We’re not sure if it made any of her injuries worse.”

“Ah.” That… definitely sounded like something Margin would do. “I’m sorry. She’s had… kind of a rough time.” She remembered the snippet of conversation she’d caught when she hacked into the helicopter radio system, about Octavio using Margin as a _test_ _subject_ of some kind. That finally gave her the explanation she’d been looking for, for both some of Margin’s behaviour and the reason why she had such a large chunk of memories missing.

They reached the room Margin was in, with a warning from the nurse that they wouldn’t be able to enter much further than the door, for everyone’s safety. Marina already felt braced for the worst, despite having seen the ugliest of the damage shortly after it happened. Now every part of Margin’s body that had been drenched in blue was covered by gauze instead, including the left side of her face and most of her left arm, and that was only what the hospital gown didn’t cover. A collection of machines and a breathing mask were still connected to her.

“Her left eye was damaged and her left eardrum was completely ruptured, so we think it’s likely she might have lost the use of both of them,” the nurse informed them. “She also lost half of two fingers on her left hand, and there’s a very high chance the burning might prevent them from growing back.”

It hurt to hear, and all Marina could do was look at the young octoling in front of her with sympathy and guilt.

This felt at least partially her fault. She’d stopped paying attention to what Margin was up to, passing her off as just needing to vent out her anger with ink sports or exploration, but everything was so much more complicated than that – and letting her have access to the motorbike despite her young age had definitely been a mistake on Marina’s part.

She should have noticed something. Underestimating Margin had caused not only her to get hurt, but multiple others too.

“It’s not your fault, Rina,” Pearl said to her once they were back outside and walking home, because Marina didn’t feel well enough to drive and Pearl was convinced the walk would do both of them good. She could always tell when Marina was blaming herself for something, and gave her hand a comforting squeeze.

“I should have realised sooner,” Marina responded through a sigh. “Maybe then all of this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Even you can’t do the impossible,” Pearl insisted, swinging their arms together a little as she lifted up her knees more in a march. “Besides, we still helped! And nobody died. That’s the main thing.”

“I guess.” That seemed like such a low bar for her to accept, and it was difficult to do so. Dwelling on it was pointless, and impossible to avoid, but… perhaps, for now, she’d just have to focus on doing everything she could. What happened had happened now; the future was more important.

* * *

Faye did not remember much from the first day she woke up. She felt incredibly strange, like she didn’t quite feel how she expected to, and the world was very fuzzy and filled with pale colours and curtains. Evidence would suggest she was in the hospital, and she fought her brain to remember what had happened and why she was here, without much luck. She was supposed to be horrified at realising she was here, but for some reason she just really didn’t care right now. Strangers were here, and they said things to her, but she couldn’t really take any of it in.

The next morning, the world around her began to be a little more stable. The concept of ‘the people talking to you are doctors and they are explaining what is happening’ was a lot more clear when she was conscious enough to understand them. They asked her about what happened, and Faye felt relieved (but also not) to realise she could recall the details, though tried to be as minimalist as possible when explaining it to these strangers. The monster attack would definitely be widespread news by this point; she would rather that her involvement in trying to stop it, and by association her role as Agent 3, remained not so.

She’d escaped pretty lightly in the fall from the roof. Faye wasn’t entirely sure how, and the doctors here didn’t know any of the details to tell her, but there was a chance the body of that beast had cushioned her fall, somewhat – very polite of it, after it dragged her off a roof. She could feel the awful bruises along her side, feel the familiar pounding in her head again.

“We did some basic scans to make sure there wasn’t any damage to your head from the fall, though you may still have a concussion,” the shrimp-looking doctor told her, holding their many hands together. “There did appear to be a slight anomaly on the results – we don’t think it’s recent, but I highly suggest you book a more detailed scan as soon as you’re able to.”

Faye knew exactly what that would be, and she didn’t want to hear more about it. She just nodded. There was no way she could afford any kind of treatment on her own, she didn’t even know if it would _be_ treatable, and the more she got involved with hospitals while on her mother’s insurance plan, the more danger she was in.

That was enough to kick in the fear again, after whatever medicine they’d been pumping through the IV in her arm had fogged up all of her thoughts yesterday.

She didn’t like that either.

Everything else was about as she expected; they’d taken samples of her blood at some point, something she was already lacking quite a lot of, and she was low on a bunch of things she couldn’t remember all the names for.

Her left arm was also missing from a few inches above where her elbow used to be. That seemed important, and yet she didn’t even notice for a full day. Apparently, getting mauled by a fish beast gave you a pretty nasty wound, and by the time she was brought to the hospital it was already starting to become badly infected, so based on how bad the injury already was and to stop the infection spreading, they’d opted to just… remove the infected area. At least it would grow back within a month or so. Faye was a little disappointed she wouldn’t get to keep any cool monster-bite scars, though.

Worry about being stuck here kept her awake, along with the anxiety of not understanding everything that was being put into her body and knowing if she didn’t get enough rest the nurses would probably use something to knock her out – but after two days, there was no sign of her biggest fear. Perhaps it was safe after all, perhaps she wouldn’t notice until Faye was long gone from this place and (hopefully) impossible to track down again.

Then a nurse walked in and said she had visitors, and Faye felt her pulse skyrocket so fast that for a moment she thought she might pass out. Fortunately she wasn’t hooked up to anything measuring that anymore; just the remaining cordless IV tube taped to her right arm in case it was needed.

There was an s on the end. Not just one visitor.

The jellyfish nurse wobbled a little as he spoke. “They did not having the ID on them, but they said you would be knowing who they are from…” He squinted at a sticky note on his clipboard. “Marin and Karley…?”

Faye’s brain still felt just a little bit fuzzy after everything, and the faded headache probably didn’t help, but she was mostly just surprised as the vaguely-familiar names registered. “Yeah—yeah, they’re my friends, it’s okay.”

“Alright, if you are being sure,” the jelly nodded, quickly wibbling away to get his work done.

She was left with a few minutes of silence for things to catch up to her, most pressingly the fact that she was… propped up in a hospital bed in one of the recyclable blue gowns, one where the sleeves were just long enough to cover her gauze-covered left one and make it more obvious there was only half a limb there. Despite how incredibly uncool she felt at the current moment, her heart felt lighter than it had since she got here, knowing she was about to see Marie again.

There was also a coil of anxiety worming its way into her stomach, because she _had_ told herself she was going to speak to Marie after the concert, about _things_ , but she really did not want to do that in the hospital, _especially_ if Callie was with her. That could wait a little longer.

Everything seemed just a little better when Marie appeared within her vision, guided by the jellyfish nurse. Marie’s gaze seemed to soften just a little when she saw Faye, an underlying look of worry haunting her features because, well, obvious reasons, but the small huff of a relieved laugh escaped her; maybe Faye was in a better condition than she’d been expecting.

“Hey,” was all Marie said.

“Hey,” Faye echoed back, feeling a smile spreading on her face without any real control over it. Immediately her brain decided it was time to remember being outside the commentator booth, when she was about to go and face that giant beast, and Marie had kissed her cheek.

She was so very, very glad she was not connected to a heart monitor.

“Oh my _goodness_ , your _arm_!” Callie’s shocked gasp snapped her out of her daze, and seemed to startle Marie a little as well as if she hadn’t noticed until now.

“Yeah. I have one of those,” Faye managed to joke good-naturedly, holding up her still-fully-existing right one which felt a little sore from both the fall and the IV.

“You’ll have two of them soon, hopefully,” Marie said, nudging her cousin in the side and rolling her eyes as she walked forward to claim the singular bedside seat. Callie was banished to the land of standing up for now. “You okay?”

Faye forced herself to not get lost in her eyes, in case Marie started worrying she had a concussion or some other similar effect from her injuries, but ended up getting distracted for a moment anyway by the casual button-up-and-jeans outfit Marie had on today. Why did she have to look so good in plaid? “Well. I mean,” Faye scrambled for words for a moment, using humour as a cover-up. “I guess I could be better, all things considered, but I could be worse too? So—yeah. Okay sums it up, I guess.”

Marie gave a half-hearted smile. “I’m glad you’re… okay, at least. If I wasn’t so tired right now I’d be mad at you for breaking your promise.”

Faye felt the corners of her mouth twitching into a frown. “I wasn’t being _reckless_ , I just— one of them didn’t follow after the others…” She held Marie’s unreadable gaze for a moment before sighing. “I’m sorry.”

“No—no, it’s alright.” Marie rested a hand on the one Faye still had for just a moment, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I wasn’t being entirely serious, I’m just—I’m glad you’re still here.”

“Yeah,” Faye murmured, only half paying attention to her response as she wished the contact lasted for longer, but knew that wasn’t likely when Callie was in the room watching them. “Sorry for making you worry, though. How’s, like… everyone? The rest of Inkopolis?”

“There weren’t any fatalities, as far as we know,” Marie informed her, taking on a more serious tone. “Although quite a few people got injured.”

“And… the monsters…?”

“In the bottom of the river!” Callie said, finally able to contribute something to the conversation and clapping her hands together excitedly as she announced the news. “I think they’re all dead. There haven’t been any other sightings of them in the city since, unless they’re just _really_ well hidden.”

“Phew.” The relief was so strong Faye had to express it out loud. “I guess Margin’s crazy plan actually worked.”

“… Margin?” Both Marie and Callie spoke at the same time, exchanging a glance with each other as they did, as if to check each of them had heard correctly.

“Oh. Yeah. She was there. And… potentially involved.” Faye didn’t have the energy to explain everything she knew, and honestly she couldn’t actually remember everything the young octoling had said. “She was trying to stop them, though, I’ll give her that much credit. Also apparently I didn’t actually stab her years ago, which, y’know, would’ve been nice if she knew _before_ trying to kill me.”

“Well… at least you didn’t almost kill someone?” Callie offered as reassurance with a slightly helpless shrug.

“You think Margin was involved with the monster attack somehow?” Marie had a concerned look on her face.

“Yeah, it’s… kinda complicated. You’re probably better off asking Marina.” Faye didn’t know if Marina was aware of any of this, or if she was _now_ , but she was probably in a much better position to find out. The mention of Marina reminded her of something, though. “Uh, speaking of… I think she and Pearl still have, like, all my stuff. Including my phone.”

“I can collect it for you if you want,” Marie said with a small nod and a look of guarded worry. “You’re not going back to stay with them once you’re out of the hospital?”

“No, I… can’t,” Faye muttered, hoping that would be enough of an explanation for Marie without Callie trying to probe into a reason. She didn’t want to bother Pearl and Marina by staying at their place any longer, and just the mere existence of Pearl’s father had stressed her out an unreasonable amount.

“You have anywhere else?”

“I’ll figure something out. Always do,” Faye shrugged with a forced smile, which was only a half-truth. Maybe the cabin could still be a reasonable shelter now the monsters were gone, unless any others were still hiding out there.

They chatted for a short while, a calm quiet hovering in the room, other than the occasional squeaking of Callie’s shoes on the tiled floor because she didn’t stay in one place for long, and Marie’s suggestion of her going to ask for another chair was turned down since their visit would have to be a relatively short one. The disaster that occurred at the event they were performing and commentating at had dragged them into a new heap of work, with both officials and journalists wanting to hear every piece of information they knew, and they’d taken time out of their busy days to visit Faye here, which she definitely appreciated – she just wished she could spend more time with Marie. _Maybe it’ll be possible soon, when all this starts to blow over._

“Do they have bathrooms in a hospital?” Callie asked once she witnessed Marie checking the time, their break almost over.

“No, Callie, all the patients are just horribly tortured.” Marie’s tone dripped with sarcasm, and Faye couldn’t help but laugh. “There’s probably one nearby. Ask a nurse or something if you can’t find one.”

“Alright!” Callie was more than used to being on the receiving end of Marie’s sarcasm and brushed it off, doing a little hop-scotch on the floor tiles on her way out the door. She hesitated at the open frame, though, and Faye’s ears twitched as she heard a slight commotion outside.

“Ma’am, I really do think you should just wait for a moment, we can’t let you through without confirmation or some kind of ID—”

A horrible feeling of dread wormed its way into Faye’s stomach. _No no it’s just something unrelated._

“I don’t give a _fuck_ what you can’t do! Get a different bloody job!”

It felt like her heart stopped.

“No—” Her words came out in a gasp. Faye’s first instinct was to _escape_ , she couldn’t _be_ _here_ she had to _get_ _away_! But just trying to sit up brought a stabbing pain to her side, still bruised from the fall, and she ended up gasping in pain and curling her arm around herself instead.

“Faye? What’s wrong?” She could hear Marie’s worried tone, but she sounded distant, and Faye couldn’t even feel the gentle hand on her shoulder, trying to encourage her to sit back against the angled bed.

_No no no please._

_Please._

_Not now._

_Not here._

_Leave me alone!_

_Please!_

She couldn’t breathe.

“ _Ow_!” Callie squeaked in pain as she was roughly shoved out of the way, hitting her shoulder against the doorframe.

“Hey!” That immediately put Marie in alert mode, ever-defensive of her cousin.

The culprit, standing a few inches above Callie’s height with pale yellow hair hanging heavily over her shoulders, didn’t care in the slightest. Didn’t even spare her a glance.

It wasn’t Callie’s life she was here to make hell.

“Where the fuck have you _been_!?” It was a simple demand with such a complicated answer, and even if Faye had been able to speak she wouldn’t have been able to give one.

All she could do was stare, wordlessly, focus all her energy on trying to not look like a terrified child in front of her mother who glared as if she was looking at her worst enemy.

Her chest hurt. Her side hurt. _Everything_ hurt but she could barely even _breathe_.

“You disappear for a year and then I get a call saying you’re in the fucking _hospital_!” her mother continued with emphasis, throwing her arms into the air. “Don’t you know what that’s _like_? Oh, hello, your fucking _missing_ _child_ almost got herself _killed_!”

Faye tried to make any kind of sound to apologise – she was right _she_ _was_ _right_ even though the rational part of her mind knew her mother didn’t care in the slightest. All that came out was a quiet pathetic whimper.

The pressure against her shoulder increased. She barely noticed. As far as Faye could tell there was nothing in this room anymore except her and her mother. Even the receptionist who had followed her here ran away, possibly for backup.

“What the hell did you do to your _face_? Cod. You’ve been off getting yourself into shit. And you wouldn’t answer a _single_ _call_!” Faye had blocked her number shortly after leaving on the Kamabo mission with the captain. Maybe that was mean of her. Maybe she should have listened to the abuse for months instead. “You’d better think yourself lucky I didn’t remove you from my insurance, or else I’d never even have _known_!”

Faye wished she had. A large hospital bill would feel so less painful to look at.

Black spots were starting to appear in her vision. Maybe it was because she wasn’t breathing.

“But of course you won’t even _thank_ me for that,” her mother scoffed. “Just make it more expensive. Next time you go almost getting yourself killed, you ungrateful brat, do me a favour and finish the job, yeah?”

“That’s _enough_.”

The harsh screeching of a chair against the floor shocked Faye back into her senses, somewhat, and she struggled to avoid gasping for breath as her lungs begged her for more air. She realised, faintly, that Marie was standing now, her expression unreadable when all Faye could see was her back, as if she was trying to place herself in between Faye and her mother.

“I think you should leave.”

_Don’t._

_Please._

_Don’t let her know we’re friends. She’ll force you away._

_I can’t lose you._

_Please._

_She’ll hurt you._

_I don’t want her to hurt you!_

Her mother turned her fierce gaze on Marie, and Faye felt an all-too-familiar feeling of dread. “Who the fuck are you? You can’t tell me to leave. I’m her _mother_!”

“Oh yeah?” There was an unnerving coldness to Marie’s voice that Faye had never heard before. “Really? I don’t see a _mother_ here.”

Faye was horrified. She didn’t know what would happen, she knew fighting back wouldn’t work, it never did.

And yet all she could do was stare at the back of Marie’s squared shoulders in absolute shock.

Nobody had ever stood up for her before. Not against her mother. People didn’t _do_ that.

Because she _deserved_ whatever her mother would do.

Didn’t she?

There was a long silence. A very long silence, much longer than her mother was normally capable of. The comment must have thrown her. Nobody had ever questioned her parenting before.

Nobody had ever had any reason to. They believed her child was an absolute nightmare and sympathised with her.

That didn’t really work now.

“You would _not_ be defending her if you knew what she was capable of,” her mother eventually said, her voice somehow sounding ten times colder than Marie’s.

Marie didn’t dignify that with a response. She cast a quick glance back at Faye, unspoken words in her gaze.

_I know._

“But fine, if you _insist_ , I don’t want to be here anyway,” Faye’s mother huffed. She looked directly at Faye, and once again all the breath was squeezed from her lungs with no promise of it being given back. “I’m still your mother, so here’s the deal; you come home. But if you _ever_ disappear on me again, you’re _done_. I’m cutting you off. No home, no insurance. I think that’s reasonable after everything you’ve put me through.”

She didn’t wait for a response, turning and storming out the door.

The atmosphere didn’t leave with her. A tense silence hung in the air. Faye struggled to regain her senses, given the slightest relief that her mother was no longer in sight, but that felt completely void when now she knew there was no escape.

“Are you alright?” Marie’s voice was soft compared to the harsh voices from a moment ago. “Faye…?”

Faye didn’t know how many seconds had passed since her mother left. She took a sharp intake of breath. She couldn’t be _scared_ of her mother! “Y-yeah, I—I-I’m…” Her throat felt like it had closed up, and her vision was starting to blur. Faye irritably rubbed at her stinging eyes and ended up just staring at her hand in horror for a moment when it came back damp.

_No. No, no, don’t cry._

_Not now._

_Not in front of Marie._

_Not over something this stupid!_

“I’m gonna make sure she leaves.” Callie was still rubbing her probably-bruised shoulder as she slipped out of the room on her new mission.

“Be careful!” Marie called after her. She hesitated for a painfully long moment, like she wasn’t quite sure what the best thing to do in this situation was, and eventually settled for sitting warily next to Faye at the top edge of the hospital bed, as if she thought her extra weight might cause it to collapse under her. “You need a hug?”

Faye, still struggling to breathe, instinctively wanted to recoil, isolate herself so nobody could witness her being so pathetic. Crying was useless, annoying, made people yell at her because they were fed up with the way she was acting.

And yet, when Marie held her arms out to her, all Faye could do was collapse against her as a sob escaped her body.

She hadn’t cried in so long. Not this badly, where it felt like she just couldn’t _stop_. Every uncontrollable sob shook her whole body, and it _hurt_ , she wanted it to _stop_ , but that just made it _worse_.

Marie didn’t get mad at her, or push her away for being a complete mess; instead, she wrapped her arms around Faye, holding her in a secure embrace, rubbing gentle circles on her back as she cried herself out.

“I’m sorry,” Faye managed to whine out through her gasps for air, her face half-buried in Marie’s shoulder. “I’m _sorry_ …!”

“No, no. You don’t have to apologise.” Marie pulled her a little closer, resting her cheek lightly against the top of Faye’s head. “Not for crying, and definitely not for her.”

Faye didn’t have a response for that. It felt like her entire body was shivering even when it wasn’t shaken by sobs, and she ended up clutching her hand against her injured side again, maybe just to prove she could still _feel_ – until Marie let out a quiet sigh, realising what she was doing and taking Faye’s hand into her own to move it away.

After a minute or so, the shuddering began to ease. Faye found herself tuning into the gentle rhythm of Marie’s hand on her back, the distant sound of her hearts beating, the feel of her fingers very lightly pressed against the palm of her hand. It calmed her, settled her nerves, until she was left with just a quiet sniffle remaining as it felt like all the energy had been drained from her body.

Marie stayed where she was, only changing her position ever so slightly so she wasn’t twisting her body as much. She let go of Faye’s hand to use hers for balance, and Faye curled her fingers into the hem of Marie’s shirt instead, closing her eyes, wishing the world to be nothing but her. All she wanted to do was fall asleep right here, in Marie’s arms, the one place she could ever possibly feel safe.

She couldn’t do that, but she wanted to hold onto this feeling for as long as she could before it would inevitably be over, and the harsh reality of the world would come crashing down on her once more.

“Feeling any better?” Marie asked quietly when some indeterminate amount of time had passed.

Faye suppressed a sigh, knowing the moment was over as she struggled to sit up on her own again, immediately missing Marie’s warmth. “I think so.” She could breathe again, even if her sinuses felt a little stuffed up from crying, but at least she didn’t feel like she was being suffocated now. There wasn’t quite the power in her for a genuine smile this time, unfortunately. “Thank you.”

“Any time.” Marie still offered her a small one, retreating off the uncomfortable mattress and back to the bedside chair. “I’ll stop breaking the hospital rules now.” She still reached out to hold Faye’s hand, a residual comfort even when she wasn’t being held. “… You don’t have to go back. To her.”

“I do.” The calmness she’d felt just a moment ago shattered just as she’d expected it would, but at least she still had the contact to ground her. “Even… even if it’s just for a short while. Until I can make the cabin liveable again.” She couldn’t meet Marie’s gaze. “I still have some stuff at Mum’s place anyway, so… I can at least get it all before she kicks me out.”

“Well… if you’re absolutely sure.” Finally looking at her showed Marie’s gaze was sad and worried, and Faye knew she didn’t want her mother anywhere near her. Faye didn’t either. “If you need anything, though, anything at all – just let me know, I’ll do whatever I can to support you.”

“Okay. I will.” Deep in Faye’s mind, she knew that not long ago she would have absolutely rejected that offer, that it would irritate and upset her, but now it just sent a rush of emotions into her hearts. Good ones, for once, enough to do a reasonable job of settling everything else. “Thank you.”

They sat in silence for a while, with the quiet hum of machinery and the ticking of a clock on the wall. Marie would glance at it occasionally, and Faye remembered she was supposed to be somewhere. “Do you need to go? I’ll be alright.”

Marie shook her head slowly. “No, it’s alright. I mean, I can’t leave without Callie anyway.” There was an unsaid concern there, a _what if something happened to her, she’s been gone a while_. “I can visit again… tomorrow, probably. I don’t think we’ll be finished today until visiting hours are over.”

Faye didn’t know when _visiting_ _hours_ were for the hospital, but it sounded like Marie had a very busy day. “Good luck. With… stuff.” Her vague description with no celebrity-job-based knowledge drew a laugh out of Marie, and that was enough for Faye to find her smile again at last, if only a brief small one.

It wasn’t long before Callie returned, joined by one of the nurses who had come to check that everything was alright and the ‘unwanted visitor’ hadn’t caused too much trouble. The nurse seemed satisfied with Faye’s response that she was okay, and left quickly after that, busier than usual after the recent events.

“Oh, shoot, we gotta run!” Callie exclaimed when she saw the clock. “Get well soon, Faye! Hopefully we can hang out again sometime when the world isn’t exploding!” She skipped out of the room quickly after that, already recovered from her encounter, leaving her cousin to catch up.

Marie rolled her eyes at Callie’s impatience, especially for someone who, according to her, had absolutely no time management skills. “Guess I’d better catch up to her before she gets lost in a ward or something.” She climbed up from the seat. “See you tomorrow? I’ll try and get in contact with Marina later.”

“Sure. Thanks again.” Faye managed a small nod. She still felt drained, her eyes dry and tired, but already she looked forward to seeing Marie tomorrow, even when she hadn’t left yet.

Marie took one step, hesitated, and then decided to give Faye one more hug, which Faye was definitely not complaining about. It wasn’t long enough for Faye to sink into that blissful state of comfort, but she was absolutely thrown as Marie brushed back her fringe a little to place a kiss on her forehead. “Goodbye,” she said with a sweet smile, her cheeks holding a slight blue hue to them, but nowhere near as embarrassed as she’d looked last time as she finally hurried after her cousin to prevent any Callie-based hijinks occurring.

Faye was too speechless to offer a farewell of her own, blinking slowly at the empty door for a good half minute after Marie was gone. She was seriously starting to wonder if perhaps Marie also harboured some non-platonic feelings for her.

Either way, Faye knew she was going to end up thinking about that one simple gesture for the rest of the day, _at_ _least_. Given the other things she had to worry about right now, that was a very welcome addition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "quickly wibbling away to get his work done" is still the best line I think I have ever written
> 
> Faye's mother is uh. not very nice. and Faye might be kinda stuck now but don't worry she won't be for long,,, I am not cruel enough to end a story with "and the character went back to live with her abusive mother, the end" bc that would be Upsetting but in like, a bad way
> 
> in happier news, Marie is now in the lead with 2-1 :] Faye you have some kissie catching up to do


	38. Questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warnings: descriptions of injuries, parental abuse, mentions of drugs/alcohol, emetophobia (only mentioned in passing, not written out or described at all)

Margin had avoided looking in the mirror every time she limped into the bathroom, because she knew exactly what she was going to see. Today was the first day she was finally proving herself right, and it was even worse than she’d expected.

She was so used to seeing Miles’ scarred face by now, but that was, for one, a very old scar by now, and two, essentially just a very large cut. What she saw now was so much more nasty-looking, the scorched and painful blue that spread along the left side of her face up from her jawline. The outer section of her left ear, previously nicked in a few places from when she’d smashed through a window in the base trying to please Octavio, was now almost completely gone. She could barely even open her left eye now, and couldn’t see anything through it other than a fuzzy blur of colour when she did. It hurt, too, but the most painful part, to Margin, was the fact that the short tentacle on that side of her face was almost completely missing now, either burned away or sliced off by one of the shards of metal that had left scratches on her body, but the fire from the explosion had acted as a sealant, causing it to heal over and refuse to grow back.

Octavio’s mark of a traitor.

That was what she was, really. Margin still couldn’t entirely convince herself that wasn’t a bad thing.

She sighed, staring down at her hands, the left of which was the same healing-burn blue as her cheek. Margin knew she had trained to be a soldier, and therefore to expect injuries and just deal with them, but there was something very unsettling about seeing the two outer fingers on her left hand ending near the first joint and knowing they weren’t going to grow back either. She’d probably been lucky she hadn’t lost more of them.

All of the burn scars were itchy and sore, and there were more of them down her left arm and side and leg as well, though her clothes had somewhat protected her from the blast and they weren’t as bad as the stinging in her face, save for a few places where exploding metal had slashed her. She was absolutely going to be scarred for life, but wasn’t that better than being dead?

Maybe if there was anything left for her in life, but she’d ruined everything. The octolings hadn’t trusted her in a long time, not since she’d made her mindset perfectly clear, and now she’d betrayed Octavio too. He probably didn’t even know she had yet, and maybe she could still return to him, but she didn’t know what she would achieve by doing that. A life of being a soulless pawn, perhaps, or she’d go right back to being his lab rat.

She didn’t like the idea of either of those, but least then she would have a purpose.

Margin slunk back to her bed, trying to ignore the stinging of her burns and the unbalanced feeling of having no sound in one ear, and flopped onto her non-injured side because it was the only way she could lie without feeling pain. This was how she was spending her days now. The people at the hospital had wanted to keep her longer, but Margin did _not_ want to be their test subject, no matter how much Marina insisted they were just trying to help.

Footsteps creaked on the old hallway outside, and a knock sounded on her door. There was only one person who went near her since the attack. “Margin? Are you up yet?”

Margin winced at Marina’s voice, wishing she could just bury herself under the duvet. “No,” she muttered. She supposed that wasn’t technically a lie, if only because she’d been wearing the same oversized t-shirt and shorts for four days straight now, because they were the least painful things she owned and changing clothes hurt.

She half expected Marina to just barge in anyway, but the door remained closed. “Have you eaten anything recently? Cecil said they offered to bring you food and you turned them away.”

“No,” Margin repeated again. The other octolings didn’t trust her, and they didn’t like her. It wasn’t even that she thought they might try to poison her or anything like that; she just didn’t want them to look at her.

“Okay, well—I’ll go get you something.” Marina didn’t even give her a chance to protest, because the footsteps were leaving a second later.

Margin sighed, which was about all she’d done in recent days, and forced herself to sit up. She didn’t want to be around Marina, but of all the possible people who might try to interact with her, Marina was somehow near the top of the list of acceptable ones right now.

Plus, apparently Marina was the reason she was still alive now. She didn’t know whether that was something she was grateful for or not yet.

For the next few minutes, Margin stared aimlessly out her window, too far away from it to see anything but the horizon and the few clouds in the sky. Everything seemed so normal now, far from the mess she’d caused, and yet also so _different_ , like she was seeing it with new eyes. The knowledge that she’d been lied to for so long still sat bitterly in her stomach, making her ill.

Marina returned after some time, causing the door handle to rattle more than usual as she opened it with her elbow. “Toast and orange juice. Everyone’s favourite meal,” she said light-heartedly, placing the plate and glass down on the table. She sat on the edge of the mattress after that, an annoying sign that she didn’t plan on leaving Margin alone just yet. “Maybe in a few days we can go down the mountain to one of the foothill cafés. You ever tried the breakfasts they make in town?”

“I’m not going _outside_ ,” Margin huffed quietly, hugging her knees closer to her body even though it stung.

Marina gave her a horribly sympathetic look, looking around for inspiration on what else she could suggest. “Well… maybe I’ll see if I can get your window to open. Then at least you can get some fresh air.”

“I’m _fine_ ,” Margin insisted. She didn’t need Marina’s help. She didn’t understand why Marina had even bothered to save her.

“Margin…” Marina sighed, instinctively holding a hand out as if to place it on her shoulder – and froze when Margin recoiled away, wincing, before she could touch her. Marina let her hand fall back into her lap instead. “I’m… sorry. For what Octavio did to you. Are you… ready to talk about it?”

“No.” She didn’t know if she ever would be. The more she mentioned it, the more _real_ it was, and the more _lies_ her life had been. She still didn’t know what pieces were real or not, and Marina was potentially a source of some of that information, but she still didn’t know if she could trust _her_ to tell the truth either.

“That’s okay.” Marina gave a small accepting nod. “I finally know all the information about what happened after the finals, if you want to hear that.”

Margin didn’t know if she wanted to hear the aftermath, but at least if she let Marina tell her _something_ , she might leave her alone sooner. “Sure.”

At the first sign of cooperativeness, Marina gave a small smile. “Well, you’ll be glad to know there weren’t any fatalities – for people, anyway.” Margin flinched at her words, knowing Marina wouldn’t understand the extra meaning behind them at all. _Squidgy might as well have been a person._ “You definitely took out that big one with the crazy stunt you pulled, and as far as we can tell most of the smaller ones fell into the water with it. One of them fell through the roof of the arena, and Faye was pretty badly injured by it, but… she’s recovering well, from what I’ve heard.” She watched Margin carefully for a reaction. “… I’m proud of you, by the way. For helping Agent 3.”

“I didn’t really have a _choice_ ,” Margin muttered sulkily, wishing she hadn’t brought that up. How did Marina even _know_? Miles must have told her – or Marina had just seen the inkling on the roof, and figured ‘well, Margin obviously didn’t kill her, so that was nice’. Or perhaps Agent 3 had told Marina herself. _I hate you even more now, inkling. Of course you would spill everything to Marina._

“There was also one more they found,” Marina continued, tapping her fingers against her knee. “It was almost dead – they think the big one tried to eat it and it got thrown off the roof.”

_Squidgy._ Margin lifted her head, feeling some energy returning to her for the first time in days. “ _Almost_ dead?”

“Oh, don’t worry! It was taken to one of the science facilities; they’ll make sure it won’t hurt anyone there if it recovers, and they can run some tests to learn more about those things to prevent another attack.”

“No—no, _no_ , that’s _Squidgy_! He’s not dangerous!” Margin desperately reached out to grab Marina’s arm, startling her a little. “You can’t let them turn him into an _experiment_!”

Marina gave her a shocked look, eyes round and confused. Apparently she hadn’t been told everything after all. “… Squidgy?”

“He’s…” Margin shrank away, hoping this wouldn’t make Marina turn against her. She probably would. If she did, though, Margin definitely deserved it after all she’d done. “He… was my friend. I know it sounds _stupid_ , but… he’d listen to me.”

There was a long silence, and very slowly Marina’s expression changed to one of concerned realisation. “… Ah. I see. Now I understand how you were involved.”

“I know I messed up, an-and I hurt everyone, but please, you _have_ to take me to him, I have to get him out,” Margin begged. She couldn’t let them use Squidgy as a lab rat, she didn’t want him to go through _everything_ _she_ _did_. “And—and then I’ll take him far away from here, I’ll leave, I won’t let him hurt anyone, I promise.”

“ _Margin_.” The hints of Marina’s old attitude towards her started to reappear. “Even if I wanted to help you, I can’t get access to a classified science laboratory. They’re not cruel, I promise; they won’t do anything inhumane to him. Those… _things_ might have attacked the city, but they’re still living creatures.”

Margin met her gaze for a long moment; Marina was very sure of this, and Margin knew there was no point trying to argue with her. She let out a long sigh, sinking back into her previous position of hugging her knees. “Okay.” At least she knew Squidgy wasn’t dead now; she’d just never be able to see him again.

That still hurt almost as much.

“I won’t ask why you did it. I think I already know,” Marina said, her expression serious, disappointed in her for everything she’d done but still… hopeful. “But… what made you change your mind?”

For a moment, Margin was silent, wondering how much she should tell Marina. Then she decided she didn’t really care anymore. “I went into the domes to get something, and… Octavio was there.”

“He’s _back_?” Marina looked worried. Margin ignored her for now.

“I told him what I was planning to do, and he just… told me to go put some hypnoshades on,” Margin muttered. She pulled her knees closer. “And then I… accidentally found some files he had. A log. About me and what I was used for.” Her hands started to shake. She didn’t want to talk about that part. “That’s it.”

“I’m sorry,” Marina said again, even though she had absolutely no reason to apologise for Octavio. “Thank you. For telling me this.” She stood up at last, offering a friendly smile, though Margin couldn’t tell if it was genuine. Possibly? It always felt so hard to tell with Marina. “Make sure you eat something, okay? I’ll check on you tomorrow – maybe see if I can find something for you to read, if you want.”

“Thanks,” Margin mumbled quietly, a word she had never liked saying to Marina. “Are you… going to do anything about Octavio?” She didn’t know what answer she was hoping for.

“Sorry, Margin. We have to. He’s too dangerous,” Marina sighed, which was almost certainly a yes.

“Yeah,” Margin said under her breath as Marina left the room. “I know.”

* * *

Being at her mother’s house was somehow simultaneously not as bad as Faye had imagined, and a thousand times worse.

Marie had walked with her the day she left the hospital, and while Faye had initially resisted her adamant offer, she finally gave in just because the thought of carrying the bag of her stuff across town with her one sore arm sounded awful. They parted ways at the end of the road upon Faye’s request, because she really didn’t want her mother to catch sight of Marie and be reminded of what went down at the hospital, because that wouldn’t be good for either of them.

She was really glad her mother wasn’t familiar enough with pop culture to recognise who Marie was.

After that, things were surprisingly quiet. Her mother didn’t talk to her much, sometimes making a point to avoid her, which Faye was perfectly fine with, because she was doing the exact same thing. She stayed in her room as much as possible. It was a mess when she first went in, and through no doing of her own, which meant her mother had almost certainly been on a rampage in here at some point, no doubt while drunk. Faye didn’t have the energy to try and clean up, simply brushing aside enough stuff so that it was possible to navigate the room. She found an old backpack and stuffed it under her bed to where she hoped it was hidden. Her plan was to shove anything she wanted to keep in there, ready for when she walked out.

There was always an underlying feeling of anxiety when she was here, even just from the constant lingering smell. It made her feel sick. It made her _actually_ sick at least once a day for the first few days, though Faye couldn’t tell if that was also a residual effect from her injuries and the ache in her missing arm. It only made her stomach twist into more knots as she had to hunt through all the kitchen cabinets for anything that might help her keep food down, being hit by her fear as soon as she saw any kind of drug, medicinal or not, and eventually decided to just wait it out and hope it’d go away as she re-adjusted to being here.

Faye locked her door every night and pushed the heaviest object she could manage in front of it just in case, but she still barely slept. Her only solace was the knowledge that she wouldn’t have to stay here forever – and that she could talk to Marie.

Marie was busy for most of the day, but she made sure to message Faye every evening to check she was alright (Faye might have exaggerated her wellness a little just to stop her from worrying too much), and Marie patiently talked with her through Faye’s almost non-legible texts on the few times there was a middle-aged woman battering at her blocked door late at night, because her mother had far too much to drink and was either furious or trying to make amends but Faye couldn’t register her words at all.

Eight would message her sometimes, too, usually during the day. They didn’t know anything about Faye’s mother, and Faye was content to save them the knowledge, but Faye at least told them that she had somewhere temporary to stay so they wouldn’t be too worried. Eight was very willing to help her repair the cabin, which was definitely appreciated; it had been Eight’s home too, for a while, so other than the fact they wanted their friend to be safe, the place probably held some sentimentality to them, too.

After over a week of the torture of living here, Faye got a shock to her system much earlier than usual at a knock on her door. “You’re on shopping duty. You live here and eat my food, so the least you can do is go pick it up. Money and the list is on the table; if you spend it on _anything_ else, you’re dead meat.”

Faye didn’t have the chance, energy or ability to respond reminding her mother that she currently only had one arm, because even if she’d just forgotten that she probably wouldn’t care. She let out a long, shaky sigh, the shivers starting to become a constant thing while she was here, and tried to type out the most un-shaky message as she could to Marie.

[14:53] hey mims demanfing I so grocere shopping

Well, close enough.

[14:54] with one arm??

[14:54] yea

[14:54] cod I hate her

[14:54] I have some time off for lunch I can get them for you if you want. Just tell me what you need

[14:54] nno no dont sgell know and get super mad if I don’t di it msyelfd

[14:54] if you xould helo me cary thjngs thatd be great but not if yout break is short

[14:54] I can do that yeah

[14:55] can you meet me by the outpost in half an hour? I need to tell you something anyhow

[14:55] yea surw

That was a whole new and different spike of anxiety, the ominous _I need to tell you something_ that apparently couldn’t be said over text, and Faye did wonder if it was what she was hoping it might be about – the thing she definitely _was_ planning to talk about sometime herself too but hadn’t yet found a good time. There was also the chance it could be something terrible, but Faye really hoped that wasn’t the case.

She took the world’s fastest shower in the hopes it would wipe the smell of this house off of her (it didn’t, it was still on her clothes), and stuffed the list and money into her pockets along with the old plastic bags her mother had left her. Faye poked her head into the musty study where her mother worked from home, feeling her jaw clam up just at the sight of her slouched over her computer even when she wasn’t paying any attention to Faye, and just about managed to quietly state that she was going out to do as she asked.

Her mother glanced at her, a look that sent daggers even when there was no emotion in her eyes, and Faye’s last hope that she would go ‘oh yeah, your arm hasn’t grown back yet, whoops, I’ll do it myself’ was dashed. “Good. Don’t stay out too long.”

Then Faye was gone, and the fresh air had never felt so good in her entire life.

Walking through the city felt strange without the boater hat blocking the sun from her face, but she’d stuffed it into the old bag on her first night back so there was no chance of her mother getting her hands on it. Her body was still a little sore and achy, either from the fall or from hardly moving for the past two weeks, but she barely noticed. The regular headache seemed to be eased a little by the fresh air, too. Faye hadn’t even realised she was in the totally wrong place until she instinctively reached the alley near the plaza that led to Octo Valley and remembered Marie had specified the outpost. Whoops.

At least the Square wasn’t that far, especially when you were walking as quickly as you could.

Faye hesitated for a short moment to catch her breath near the grate leading to Octo Canyon, throwing a sour look in the direction of the Grizzco building before she moved out of sight and sank into squid form, which hurt her missing arm a lot more than she expected it to. She popped out the other end instinctively wanting to press a hand to the yellowish stub where her elbow was trying to regrow, but just managed to stop herself, knowing that would probably just make the pain worse.

Fortunately, she was immediately distracted. Marie was standing by the fence surrounding the outpost, looking at the mountains in the distance, but glanced over at the sound of the grate being used, a bright smile spreading on her face when she saw Faye.

Faye felt a smile of her own tugging at the corners of her mouth for the first time in days. Neither of them said a word as Faye swiftly crossed the space between them, and Marie met her close to the building, holding her arms out because now she just _knew_.

Faye fell into her embrace, resting her head on Marie’s shoulder. She felt Marie holding her tightly, curling her fingers into the back of Faye’s shirt for a moment before loosening her grip, but not making any effort to push her away, one hand moving to rest gently on the back of Faye’s head, stroking her hair. Faye, no longer caring how affectionate she was being because they were alone here, tried her best to bury her face in the side of Marie’s neck, closing her eyes, letting her closeness comfort her.

Marie did give the smallest giggle in response to that, a wonderful sound. “Hey,” she said softly, her breath warm next to Faye’s ear.

“Hey,” Faye murmured a reply, her voice muffled. Her hand had been shaking against the back of Marie’s shoulders, but the trembling was finally starting to wear off. _Safe_. That was how she felt in Marie’s arms.

She wanted to stay here forever. Just the two of them, soft and warm and _safe_.

Then she remembered the other part of Marie’s message. Faye shrank away at last, not willing to remove all contact just yet as she let her hand fall down Marie’s arm to hold hers – and Marie obviously forgot for a moment that this was currently the only hand Faye had, making a motion to hold her other one before she realised, resting her hand in the crook of her other elbow instead, an awkward smile on her face as she brushed off her mistake.

“You, uh… said you needed to tell me something?” Faye prompted, hoping the wariness didn’t show through in her voice.

“Hmm..? Oh! Right.” Marie gave her head a small shake. “In like… a week or so, Squidbeak has another mission – a _final_ -final mission, hopefully, even though the last one was supposed to be our final one. And… well, I know it’d be a bit much to ask you to take part while you’re recovering, but… I don’t know, I—I’d like if you were there. Just to help on the overseeing. That’s—that’s what I’ll be doing, anyway.”

Faye couldn’t help but feel a _slight_ twinge of disappointment that it wasn’t what she was expecting, but at least it wasn’t anything terrible either. And, as she heard Marie explain, she realised exactly why she was asking this despite Faye’s current sorry state. She knew Faye had been upset about not being included in the last big mission; now she was making a special effort to make sure she could take part this time, even if her contribution would be very minimal. “I… I can do that,” Faye said with a small nod, feeling the smile spreading wider on her face as her hearts swelled with warmth for her friend.

It was mirrored back to her, Marie’s grin so wide it showed one of her sharp canines. “Great! I’ll let you know when I have the details and stuff.” She gave Faye’s hand a small squeeze. “You wanna go get those groceries?”

For a few seconds, Faye just stared down at their linked hands, wishing her left one to spontaneously grow back already so she could hold both of Marie’s. “Can… we wait here just a bit longer…?” she asked slowly. She didn’t feel up for throwing herself back into the busyness of the city just yet.

“Of course. We’ve got time.” Marie glanced over her shoulder at the slightly weather-beaten bench. “You wanna sit down for now?”

Faye didn’t know if that meant her tiredness was showing through or whether it was just a polite offer, but she didn’t mind which. “Sure.”

She didn’t want to let go of Marie’s hand, but in the interest of not losing her balance and falling against a wooden building while trying to sit down with her tired legs, Faye had to for just a moment. Her hand was back in Marie’s a moment later once she was on the bench with her, and Faye leaned lightly against her side.

“How are you holding up?” Marie asked, a little warily, as if she thought Faye might shatter into pieces at the reminder.

Faye sighed, which she considered an answer to that question already. “I can handle it. Always did before.”

“I know, but… I wish you didn’t have to.” Marie let out a sigh of her own, holding Faye’s hand a little tighter for just a moment. “Work’s starting to let up now at least, so… I’ll have more free time if you just… want to go get lunch, or sit in the park, or something.”

“That sounds nice.” Faye smiled softly, even though she wasn’t actually looking at Marie right now. She had a strong debate in her mind, of what she’d been telling herself she was going to talk about and still hadn’t managed to after everything that went wrong, and now… she didn’t know what exactly had done it, but some part of the affection she felt right now was definitely egging her on. “Can I… ask about something also?”

“Sure?” Marie gave her a mildly surprised look, no doubt trying to calculate what Faye might ask. Faye didn’t know if any of her guesses would be the correct answer, but she hoped one of them was.

“Well… would it, uh… would it be alright if…” Faye stumbled on her words, and realised she’d spent far too much time thinking about _when_ she was going to ask and not much on _how_. Her ears were twitching a little at her sudden awkwardness, and she let go of Marie’s hand to rub at one of them in an effort to cover it up. _Oh, whatever. Just spit it out. Worst scenario is she just says no._ “Could I, uh—like— kiss you?”

“ _Huh_?” Marie’s voice raised a few octaves to the point where her instinctual reply almost came out as a squeak. She froze, her back rigid now as she sat up, her eyes very round and her cheeks starting to turn a flushed blue.

“I mean! Uh—like, I kind of impulsively kissed you, o-on the cheek that one time and after I was like, hmm, okay that was kind of awkward – but like – then you did the same thing? An-and I thought maybe it might have just been, like, a friend thing, maybe, but I wasn’t sure so I thought I’d just… ask… so—but it’s—it’s perfectly okay if you don’t want to! Just—just throwing that out there.” Faye waved her hand, a slightly panicked look probably adorning her features now as the words tumbled from her mouth. “Please, um, feel free to completely forget I said anything, if you want.”

Marie continued to watch her with that stunned expression, slowly bringing a hand up to hide the lower half of her face, eventually looking away as her gaze switched between different points on the ground. “I-I, um… I just… wasn’t expecting that to, uh, be what you wanted to ask…?”

Faye waited a few seconds longer, cringing internally at her own impulsiveness, as usual. She could feel her hearts racing. “Sorry, I… maybe made things a little awkward.”

“No! No, no, it’s alright, I’m just— _ah_.” Marie paused to run her hands over her face for a moment, finally taking a deep breath. “Maybe I would possibly be, um, perfectly okay with that?”

Her words came out very fast, and Faye had to stare at her for a moment for them to register. _She said yes._ “Oh! Right! Okay.” Then she just… remained still for a few seconds, because Faye wasn’t really sure what to do next. Was she supposed to just, sort of, lean over and kiss her? That sounded even more awkward. Her cheeks were burning by this point. This was starting to make her head hurt… “Um. Okay! So. Really didn’t think I’d get this far.”

Marie let out a laugh that was half-wheezed, and Faye realised that behind the hand half-hiding her face, she was _beaming_. “I… have no idea what I’m doing,” she said, still with a rather high pitch to her voice.

She was so _adorable_ , and Faye welcomed the bright smile she could feel spreading on her face with the fresh rush of emotions. “You ever kissed anyone before?”

“Nope.”

“Wow. Me neither. Darn, now there’s like, _pressure_ ,” Faye laughed, feeling a little giddy. She already knew her body was going to be very angry at her if she tried to twist around while sitting on this bench, and with a new burst of energy pulsing through her veins, she propelled herself back up into standing, holding her arm out. “Just—come ‘ere.”

Marie hesitated for only a moment, like her mind was still catching up with what was happening, and a quick giggle escaped her as she took Faye’s hand, making sure to climb up with her own strength rather than relying on the still-recovering squid.

Then Faye was in her arms again, and everything felt so different yet familiar at the same time. Faye brought her hand up to cup Marie’s cheek as their foreheads lightly touched, the thought of _maybe you should have waited and done this when you actually had two arms again_ somewhere in her brain, but also could she _really_ have waited another month for this? Marie was so close, Faye could feel her breath on her lips from the hiccupped giggles she was trying to hold in, and everything in the world was just the two of them, together, here in this very moment.

Faye had thought she was falling in love with Marie before; now she was absolutely, one-hundred-percent sure of it.

Screw waiting a month. She didn’t want to wait even another second.

Bundling up all her nerves and shoving them aside, Faye finally tilted her head and gently pressed her lips against Marie’s.

She had no idea what to expect. She had no idea if this was what she had _been_ expecting or not. All she knew was that she very much liked kissing Marie and she definitely wanted to keep doing it, and that was now the only thing that occupied her thoughts. She slipped her arms up over Marie’s shoulders to get closer, feeling the slight sting of the one half-missing but not caring right now, and was vaguely aware of Marie trying to work out where to put her hands, switching between Faye’s sides and back and shoulders. Her lips were soft and warm, just like everything else about Marie, and Faye loved her, she _loved_ _her_ _so_ _much_.

Air was a necessary thing in life, a very rude thing which meant that Faye had to stop kissing the cute girl she’d been pining over for months, and she pressed her forehead against Marie’s again as she sucked in the small amount of air she was missing. She could feel Marie’s fast breath against her face, feel the pounding of her hearts from how close she was.

A moment later Marie backed away slightly, bringing her arms in close to curl around herself with a sharp intake of breath, bringing her hand back up to hide her extremely flushed face again.

“Marie…?” Faye spoke quietly, concerned a little when she noticed a tear roll down her cheek and splash against her hand.

“N-no, I’m fine, I’m—I’m sorry, I just— _aah_ ,” she whined, covering her face with her hands again for a moment, slowly dragging them down and wiping the dampness from her face, sucking in another deep breath. “Okay. I’m good. It’s just— hmm- _mmm_ would it be really awkward if I told you I might have, maybe, had a crush on you for a while?”

“You _have_?” Faye stared at her with an incredibly dumbfounded expression. Marie had a crush on _her_? “I-I mean I—I guess not because I… think I’ve had a crush on you for like, a few months now maybe.”

Marie wheezed out another laugh, running one knuckle under her eye as she recovered from her moment of being overwhelmed. “Try three years.”

“ _Marie_!?” Okay, now Faye was _absolutely_ speechless. All she could do was step forward to hug her again, staring wide-eyed at the wall behind her as she took a few seconds to absorb this. How had she _never_ noticed!? _Oh my cod!_ “Holy shit, if I’d known that, I would have kissed you _months_ ago.”

_That_ caused Marie to burst out laughing, hugging Faye back tightly as her shoulders shook with giggles, and Faye found them a little infectious. When it started to fade, Marie let out a content hum, pressing her face into the side of Faye’s hair, taking in a slow breath – and making Faye extra glad she’d showered just before coming out here. “I love you,” she murmured happily.

“I love you too. Oh my cod,” Faye repeated, still feeling thoroughly shocked. A fresh giggle escaped her. “… Does this make us like… girlfriends, or…”

“I—I guess?” Marie moved back to look at her, a new wave of surprise passing through her expression as if the thought hadn’t quiet occurred to her until right this second. She was still beaming. “I mean, if you’re okay with that.”

“I am _so_ _much_ more than _okay_ ,” Faye laughed, her grin spreading so wide that it tugged at the corners of her eyes. This was not how she expected her day to go at all. She’d gone out here to get groceries and ended up with a girlfriend!

_… Ah, shit, that first part._

“Oh. Groceries,” she muttered, finding that a very uninteresting change of subject.

“Right.” Marie clicked her fingers somewhere behind Faye’s back. “Yeah. I guess we should do that, huh.”

“Yeah,” Faye sighed. She looked up at Marie and gained a slight smirk. “… After one more kiss.”

She could feel Marie smiling against her lips as she pulled her in again, and knew she definitely didn’t have any complaints about that suggestion.

They walked briskly across town, hand in hand, and Faye found that she really didn’t mind doing the grocery run while Marie was here to help her with it. They went through the list pretty fast, Faye still knowing from the many years spent living with her mother (which she didn’t want to think too much about right now and ruin her good mood) which brands of everything she would want. Any time the two of them were the only ones in the aisle, Faye would take the chance to lean in close to Marie, quietly saying “girlfriend” as just that word brought a new burst of happiness into her chest, and every time it would draw a quiet happy laugh from Marie at the reminder, and she would say it back.

After walking back across town at a more reasonable pace, they stopped at the end of the road again, Marie placing down the few bags she was holding. “You sure you can manage these on your own?”

“For fifteen whole metres? Yeah,” Faye nodded, feeling her smile start to fade at last.

“Alright.” Marie moved them closer together for her, so she could more easily pick them up with one hand. “I’m always here if you need anything. Because… you’re my girlfriend and I love you.” She pulled down the facemask she’d put on shortly before leaving the canyon to disguise herself, revealing her shy smile as she leaned in to give Faye another quick kiss.

“Can’t believe I’ve been your girlfriend this whole time,” Faye said jokingly, holding her for as long as she dared before she knew she had to _go_ already.

“I’ve _loved you_ this whole time,” Marie scoffed, rolling her eyes in her good-natured Marie way. At least she didn’t seem as embarrassed about her emotions now, even if her cheeks did look comparatively very blue when she pulled the mask back up. “I’ll message you later,” she promised, waving her off.

“I look forward to it.” Faye smiled back at her, knowing her own expression was probably embarrassingly soft, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Somehow, even making the walk back down this road didn’t feel quite as terrible as usual. Things would be alright. Even if she had to put up with her mother for the time being, it wouldn’t be for long, and she could get through it. She had support, and that helped make her strong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> girled friends :]
> 
> maybe not the Best Time Ever to get into a relationship but sure is a better time than all the previous times when they thought about it
> 
> finally......... lesbiance (it only took them 3 whole stories)


	39. Not Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warnings: manipulation, tasers ??

The stagnant air of the domes felt even more suffocating than the last time she’d been here, but Margin tried to ignore it, as well as the dull ache of her burns, as she walked slowly through the silent streets. The underground city felt so much more cold and uninviting now that she knew the truth, leaving Margin wondering just how much she’d done here that she had no memory of, even after Octavio had given her slightly more freedom than a singular isolated room. The thought of spending every day underground, locked in one place, sounded terrifying to her now.

The faint glow still emanated from the base, and the metal stairs leading up to it felt so much louder than she wanted them to be. _You can warn him,_ the words repeated themselves in her brain, over and over. _You could warn him he needs to leave and maybe he’ll forgive your failure._

_But that would be even more of a failure in his eyes._

Margin didn’t go anywhere near Octavio’s throne room, trying to keep to the shadows as best she could as she retraced her steps to the lab. Under the sound of her own breathing, she listened, for any sign that she wasn’t alone here, and couldn’t decide if the silence she heard was reassuring or unnerving.

The feeling of unease, betrayal and nausea began to resurface when she entered the room, even though the lights were off this time. She didn’t dare turn them on, relying on her minimal night vision to see what was around her. The box of hypnoshades still lay on the table, untouched, like they were begging her to put them on.

_Maybe everything would go away if you did that._

Margin took in a deep, awful-feeling breath, trying to convince herself that wasn’t what she wanted.

She didn’t know what she wanted anymore, other than to not be here, but she’d made her choice.

A metal panel in the wall cracked away easily when she pried it open with a screwdriver, making a horrifyingly loud _clang_ as it fell to the ground before she could catch it, causing Margin to freeze and listen for a long moment. Nothing. She steeled herself, unscrewing her way through another panel until everything was finally too dark for her to see, and she had to take her phone from her bag for the light from its screen. There was the thing she was looking for; she carefully pulled the drive from its slot, making sure not to damage it, and stuffed it into her backpack along with her phone. Her bag still had a faint smell of rotten eggs to it, and it made her feel even more ill.

As soon as she stood up, a crackly voice made all her hearts stop.

“ ** _Margin_**.”

She froze.

_No no no I’m sorry—_

“ ** _You’re sneaking around in the base_**?” Octavio’s voice spoke from a speaker, somewhere, and Margin didn’t know how much he’d seen. “ ** _That must mean you failed! Or perhaps you were lying to me from the start. Is that why you ran away without the shades_**?”

“ **No! No, I-I wasn’t lying to you!** ” Margin responded desperately, hating the way her pitch raised. Even now, after everything she knew, here she was, not wanting to disappoint him.

“ ** _And now the inklings are controlling you, aren’t they? You let them persuade you. You don’t HAVE to be weak, Margin._** ”

She _was_ weak.

At least he had one thing right.

“ ** _Look what the inklings did to you! You shouldn’t be helping them. If we work together, we’ll make sure they pay for EVERYTHING!_** ”

He was talking about her injuries. That meant he _had_ seen her, sometime while she was here.

But he was wrong. It wasn’t the inklings that had caused any of the injuries he could see.

_It was you._

_Even now you’re still trying to manipulate me._

She couldn’t stay here.

Margin bolted from the room, painfully catching her bad shoulder on the doorframe on her way out, but that didn’t slow her down. Remembering the way out felt difficult, especially in the dark.

“ ** _You’ve made the WRONG decision, Margin_**!” She’d never heard Octavio sound so furious – not at her. His voice bellowed from every direction, from the embedded speakers around the base used for pumping out the hypnotic music. “ ** _I can WIN without TRAITOROUS OCTOLINGS LIKE YOU!_** ”

This was it. There was no going back now.

There hadn’t been for weeks. She’d made her choice when she ran away, even if she hadn’t realised it yet.

Margin burst from the building, immediately realising how much danger she was in.

They were all around her. Large swollen creatures, ink dripping from their bodies, every octarian Octavio had left at his disposal. The leftovers of incomplete octolings. They swarmed the ground and sky, and though these ones were far from top performance – the leftovers of leftovers, the ones Octavio had formed from whatever octoling traces he had left in his collection – their weapons would be just as deadly.

A sniper’s aim laser fell on her as soon as she emerged, and Margin quickly drew back into the building, pressing herself against the inside wall as a line of off-purple ink smeared the floor behind her.

“ _Pages, close that door! Now!_ ”

The voice sounded far too loud in her right ear, but Margin was too busy trying to save both her life and the device in her bag to do anything but follow the order, slamming the light metal door as a barrage of ink splattered against it – the colour was altered enough from the regular octarian purple that it would be able to harm her and difficult to match exactly. Margin only just saw the yellowish marker of a superjump before the world outside this awful building was cut off from her view.

A few seconds later, the ground shuddered, a new explosion of ink tried to fling the door back open, and the garbled sound of octarians instantly vanished. Not wanting to be left in here, in this dark room that stank of ill octarian ink, Margin pushed her way back out the door.

The whole area was empty now, but nearly every part of the floor and nearby walls was splattered with yellow ink after the splashdown and the enemies it had taken out. In the middle of all the mess, a lone inkling looked around at the destruction, checking for any further ambush.

“That wave’s down. There might be others hiding around, though,” he said, and Margin had no idea if he was speaking to her or the people listening in through their mics.

She wasn’t fond of Agent 4, but most of the reasons she didn’t like him were because of how annoying he had been when getting in Octavio’s way, adamantly refusing to kill his own friends and therefore messing up the hypnosignal plan, and she could no longer care less about those things. Agent 4 had barely done anything to her, personally, and by now that pretty much just put him on the ‘probably reasonable but would rather not be around’ list of inklings, which seemed to be _most_ of them.

“I hate my code name,” was all she ended up saying, muttering sulkily, knowing she would be heard.

“ _Good_!” the voice over her speaker chided. “ _I hate you. It fits perfectly._ ”

Margin pulled an unseen face and didn’t react to the more distant-sounding laugh she heard. She knew who _that_ was, and she was definitely very far up the list of ‘inklings Margin didn’t want to see ever again’.

“Agent 2, we’re supposed to be working _with_ her,” Agent 4 sighed, tapping his roller against the ink-covered ground.

“ _Get back to me when she’s tried to kill you, Four, otherwise I could really care less about her feelings right now_.”

“ _There are more octarians heading towards the base_ ,” Marina interrupted over the line. “ _Be careful Agent 4, Margin._ ” At least Marina wasn’t calling her by the silly code name Marie had given her.

Margin, without a weapon to defend herself, resigned to following Agent 4 as they made their way out of the base, letting him deal with any octarians who dared come close. She didn’t know if she was upset about having to be protected; Margin couldn’t decide if she’d be able to shoot one of the creatures or not, even knowing they were probably suffering in their current states, just out of instinct of them being octarians. They reached the gate to see the swarm of octocopters and octobombers buzzing around the city below like flies, attacking the others but not standing a chance against the inklings’ small task force.

She could see Eight easily overpowering a whole group of twintacle octotroopers even though she only had a turf-grade weapon, Pearl and Marina fighting (somewhat) back-to-back with their dualies and brella, that one blue inkling she couldn’t remember the name of struggling to shoot at the octocopters trying to swarm him as Callie smacked the closest ones out of the air with her roller. Octavio’s remaining army was small, and it didn’t take the group long to force their way through and up into the base to join Margin and Agent 4.

A loud rumbling sounded from somewhere behind them, and Margin looked around in panic only to see the Octobot King II (II.V?) rising from the gaps between the nearby buildings. She wondered, for a terrifying moment, if Octavio was going to try and fight them himself.

“You SLIMY INKLINGS!” He yelled as the giant flying machine swooped past. “You won’t win FOREVER! Don’t think you have now!”

He was running away again. They wouldn’t be able to catch him. Margin could only hope he wouldn’t have any way to get to her or the other octolings.

She didn’t have to hope for long. A charger _crack_ split through the air, and Octavio yelled as one of the Octobot King’s poorly-repaired thrusters gave in from the impact, sending the whole craft tilting to one side and plunging it down into the city. It hit the wall of one of the buildings with a horrendous _smash_ of metal, blasting through it.

For a moment, everyone was silent. Especially Margin. Especially her thoughts.

Had Octavio survived that? Probably. Did she want him to? She didn’t know.

She really was a traitor.

“… Oh! Wow. Uh.” Nearby, the blue squid nervously turned the barrel of the hero charger he was holding in his hands, looking even more stunned than everyone around him. “I-I, um, didn’t expect to actually land that shot?”

“Jakey, you _did_ it!” Callie cheered, swiftly drawing him into an almost-painful-looking tight hug. Agent 4 reached over to pat his shoulder, either as a congratulations or sympathy for almost being crushed by his friend.

“We’re not done yet,” Marina added grimly. “Let’s go get him.”

* * *

Faye had never felt so restless on a mission before, and she had the feeling it was partially because she technically wasn’t _on_ the mission. She absolutely wanted to be in there, beating the shit out of Octavio, but even she knew that was a terrible idea in her current condition.

Still, she was able to watch and be an additional pair of eyes for the surroundings, watching through the cameras on Four and Callie’s headsets on the old-looking television Marie had brought out of the cabin at the outpost (was this really how the captain had supervised her missions?), witnessing as Octavio’s ship went down and the group moved forward after defeating his army to claim the prisoner they hadn’t been sure if they would get today. The computer drive was the true goal of this mission, an item Marina wanted for the sheer amount of information on the silent crimes Octavio had committed on his own people. Faye hadn’t been sure about letting Margin take part in this, even if it had been the young octoling’s own suggestion, but she was the main reason they’d brought so much backup, just in case, and that seemed to have worked in their favour.

Including Jake. Faye still didn’t know what to think of him and his apparently ‘accidental’ recruitment into Squidbeak, but even Marie let out a quiet ‘hmm’ of admiration when he managed to shoot the Octobot King out of the sky, despite Faye having a feeling that wouldn’t have been too difficult for Marie to pull off herself.

The two of them, as well as the Captain who was sitting on the bench nearby, watched as their friends were able to apprehend Octavio; he wasn’t badly injured from the crash, but he hadn’t been able to move far from where his ship landed, which made him easy to find. Faye witnessed, on the low-res screen, Marina pull out the sea taser she’d taken from Margin on their mission many months ago, pointing it at the octarian leader.

“ _You wouldn’t do it. I’m old. That might KILL me_ ,” Octavio spat, possibly bluffing.

His expectations for Marina’s mercy after all he’d done were too high. “ _I’ll take my chances._ ”

Faye had never been hit by one of those things, but even she winced when Marina fired the electric gun. Octavio was constantly in octopus form, but it’d render him immobile long enough for them all to drag him back here.

“All of you, stay alert on your way back,” Marie warned them through the communicator. “We don’t know if there are any other octarians waiting in ambush.”

Various words of affirmation came from the speakers, but their wariness wasn’t needed. Octavio had used up all his resources to try and get rid of them in the base.

“Hmm,” Cap’n Cuttlefish mumbled once the New Squidbeak Splatoon was near to emerging back onto the surface. “I’ll be headin’ over to meet them.” He stood up slowly, using his cane for support.

“Be careful, gramps,” Marie warned him softly, more of a please-don’t-overdo-it than there being any actual danger.

“I’m not _that_ old!” the one-hundred-and-thirty-one-year-old man protested as he hobbled away.

Faye watched him leave, and once she was sufficiently sure that he could no longer see them, she finally gave in to the affection she’d been craving all day and leant against Marie’s side, letting her head rest on her girlfriend’s shoulder. It had been almost a week, and yet the word _girlfriend_ still never failed to bring a smile to her face, even in thought.

Marie let out a half-stifled hum of laughter, leaning forward for just a moment to make sure the communicator was off, before she finally put an arm around Faye to pull her just a little bit closer, trying to avoid touching her regrowing arm. “Sorry. I’ll… work out how to tell them eventually.”

“It’s okay,” Faye murmured, longing to cuddle in closer to her but holding back only because she still wanted to keep one eye on the screen just in case anything _did_ happen. She didn’t mind if nobody else knew for now; she could tell it was going to be Callie who Marie would have a more difficult time announcing her relationship to, but if the captain found out, her cousin was sure to be soon after. That didn’t mean sitting close to Marie on an old blanket on the floor and not being able to even lean against her side was _easy_ , but she’d chosen that over sharing a bench with the captain in a heartbeat.

She hadn’t been able to spend as much time with Marie as she wanted to, partially because of how busy Marie was, but also because if Faye wanted to go anywhere, she had to sneak out through her bedroom window and hope her mother wouldn’t notice her absence. Otherwise she would have to come up with some excuse for where she was going, and Faye knew from experience that ‘having a life’ was something her mother did not want her doing. She was absolutely _not_ going to tell her she was going out for an hour to have lunch with her girlfriend (and maybe sit in the park for a while and share a few kisses in the most hidden spot they could find).

Faye really missed the short outing they’d had a few days ago.

“How’s the cabin doing?” Marie asked quietly, not wanting the captain to overhear their conversation because Faye really didn’t want him to find out the old place had been destroyed by a strange fish monster, or at least not until the place _wasn’t_ a total wreck, because then he was less likely to be mad about it.

“Kinda the same still. I told Eight I’d go there with her after the mission is done today,” Faye told her. Eight was a good friend, and Faye did feel a _little_ guilty that she was channelling all her sneaking-out energy into spending time with Marie and hadn’t seen them since the attack, but they’d also been busy with their team. “She wants to help me fix the place up, but she doesn’t have a ton of free time. Same reason as you, I guess.”

“Ah, right. The finals.” Marie gave a small nod. After the last event had been interrupted, the league finals were going to be held again next week; no concert this time, and without the live audience other than whoever happened to be by the required stages at the time, but Marie and Callie were still going to commentate as promised. Preparations for it were what had been eating up so much of Marie’s time in recent days, and Faye could tell she was more nervous about the job than usual after what had happened last time. “I… had an idea, actually, that I was going to ask you about maybe.”

“Hmm?” Faye lifted her head, feeling Marie’s shoulder grow a little tense under her cheek.

“Well, it’s just—once finals are over properly, I’m going to be a lot less busy with work. At least until something else crops up,” Marie said with a nervous laugh. “So I was wondering if, y’know… you’d like to stay for a while. At our place. Like, maybe until we can get the cabin fixed up for you – I can help, I’m sure Callie wants to as well. I just— y’know— I don’t want you to have to stay with… _her_.” She gently placed a hand on Faye’s, which still had a slight tremor in it despite how far away she was from that place right now.

Faye looked at her with wide eyes, feeling a warm sensation spread through her body from her hearts. “I—are you sure that’s okay?” A smile tugged at her mouth, and she tried to fight it back without much success. _Yes_ , she absolutely wanted to get away from her mother as soon as possible, and with the added bonus of getting to stay with her girlfriend? That wasn’t a difficult decision at all.

“Yeah! Yes, it’s totally fine. I mean, I’ve already checked Callie’s okay with it—even if, well, she thinks we’re just friends still, and we don’t really have an extra bed in the apartment so you might have to sleep on the sofa if that’s alright – I wish I could let you stay for longer, but our tenancy agreement is… kind of fickle about those things.” Marie gave an apologetic smile. “Still… hopefully a week or so is enough to make the cabin liveable again?”

“I—I think so.” Faye still felt a little stunned by the offer, and for some reason it felt like her eyes wanted her to cry again. She managed to hold it back this time. “Yeah, I’d – of course I want to, oh my cod, _thank_ _you_.” A beaming smile spread on her face, and she scrambled from her position on the hard ground to hug Marie.

Marie hummed happily at her acceptance, holding her tightly for a moment before loosening her embrace enough to kiss Faye’s cheek. Faye was absolutely _not_ letting her get away with that, brushing her lips against Marie’s, holding back on her urge to deepen the kiss just because there was such a high risk of the captain returning to find out what was taking them so long, and then things would be _very_ awkward.

At the very least, that did draw a small giggle and a blush out of Marie, who gently pressed her forehead against Faye’s. “I love you. You think you’ll be ready to leave and meet me as soon as finals are over?”

“Yeah.” Faye didn’t say what she was thinking, that she was ready to leave that place at the drop of a hat, but she didn’t want to make Marie feel guilty about not being able to have her over sooner. This would give Faye the chance to make some final decisions on what was worth taking with her, at least – and the solid knowledge that she could _leave_ soon. “I love you too.”

They didn’t push their luck after that, seeing on the screen that the group had reached the aboveground of Cephalon HQ and were making their way back to the outpost with help from Sheldon and the flying truck. Faye snuck in one more quick kiss before finally struggling to climb back to her feet, not realising Marie had offered her a hand until she was already standing (although it would have been difficult to take it anyway with only one arm), and the two of them followed after the captain at last.

* * *

It wasn’t as fulfilling as Marina had hoped to see Octavio restrained in a giant glass bowl, his movements still twitchy and limited ten minutes after she’d shot him with the sea taser. He glared around at the group who had caught him, eyes squinting in the sunlight after being back underground for weeks, and did not say a word.

“I think we need a better prison for him,” Agent 4 commented. “The snow globe of shame doesn’t have a great track record.”

“We can hardly take him to the authorities,” Marie pointed out. “Not without putting the rest of the octolings in danger.”

That was true. Octavio may have been the leader, but there would be enough evidence to incriminate half of the octoling soldiers of creating weaponry to potentially restart a century-old war – including Marina herself.

“Why don’t we just, y’know,” Pearl offered her suggestion, making a cut-throat motion with one hand. “War criminal. He kinda deserves it.”

“As much as I agree with you, Pearlie,” Marina muttered, a little sourly, “I don’t want his blood on anyone’s hands.” Did she have it in her to kill him herself? She didn’t think so – even if she wouldn’t have _minded_ if the taser had _accidentally_ killed him.

“You’re c-COWARDS!” Octavio yelled from within his prison, voice still stuttering as he slammed one limb against the glass, making a few of the others jump. “Every ONE of you!”

“ **Wipe his brain.** ”

Marina glanced around in surprise at the octarian speak, seeing Margin warily step forward, her dusty-looking purple bag gripped tightly in her hands. “Margin…?”

“ ** _You_**!” Octavio turned on her instantly, struggling to lean forward in his containment. “ **How _dare_ you show your face! You can’t turn against ME! I MADE YOU! From my OWN LIMB!**”

“ ** _Do not_ speak to her like that**,” Marina snapped, feeling a rare anger boiling in her stomach as she gave Octavio a taste of his own medicine, smacking one hand against the glass close to his face, feeling triumphant when that made him flinch. “ **That doesn’t count for anything anymore**.” She stepped back, turning to Margin, who had shrunk away from her ex-leader’s fury. As angry and obnoxious as the young octoling had been at times, she was still yet another one of Octavio’s victims – maybe one of the most unfortunate. “ **What do you mean?** ”

Margin hesitated for a long moment, watching Octavio, as if she was unsure whether she wanted to further her suggestion. She was already speaking in octarian, probably so the others wouldn’t understand what she was saying, other than Eight. “ **Wipe his brain. Give him false memories or something. There’s probably info in here telling you how to do it.** ” Slowly, she held the bag out to Marina.

She took it from her, just unzipped enough to see the drive was still inside. “ **Maybe** …” Marina took it out, handing the bag back to its owner, and gave a small sigh. “I think… I need to see everything that’s on here, and… we should let the rest of the octolings decide what happens to him too, once they know the extent of what he’s done.”

“You had better hope they are feeling merciful, Octavio!” Cap’n Cuttlefish spoke up, hobbling forward to tap on the glass with his cane.

“Stay AWAY from me, CRAIG!” Octavio spat back. His eyes burned with fury. “You are as MUCH at fault for this as I am!”

“For enabling you, maybe,” Cuttlefish huffed. “I will admit I let prejudice get the best of me after what you did. Perhaps I should have tried harder to stop your greed. It _was_ foolish of me to believe there was some good in you.”

Octavio scowled at him, but said nothing else.

“You’re done? Good,” Marina regarded the globed ex-leader with a harsh glare before she turned to the others. “I think the glass should at least hold until I can find a better way to contain him, but it’d be best if someone keeps an eye on him, just in case.”

“I can take the first shift,” Agent 4 helpfully offered.

“Me too,” Jake added, probably worried about what might happen if his brother was left alone with Octavio even though he no longer had access to the hypnosignal.

“Thank you.” Marina gave the both of them a grateful smile. She was the first to step away, not wanting to be around Octavio longer than she had to, a sign for the others that they were done here. There was nothing more to say to a man so terrible.

Those not on guard duty began to make their way back up towards the cabin, and towards the route back to the city. Marina noticed Eight make her way straight to Faye, where the two of them chatted quietly with quick glances at the captain, as if they were planning something and didn’t want him to overhear – perhaps he didn’t know about the damage to the old cabin yet. Marina didn’t know where Faye was staying now, but Marie had assured her she had _somewhere_ to go, and watching as Faye and Marie said a quick farewell to each other now, Marina wondered if there was something between the two of them. The expressions on their faces reminded her of the way Pearl often looked at her.

There was only one left in their assembly who didn’t fit into a group, who followed along silently behind them and kept her distance, and that was Margin. The others had accepted her as part of the mission, but Marina knew most of them hadn’t forgotten about what she’d done on their original one to free the octolings, or the way she’d acted since – or her involvement in the attack on the city. Marina didn’t blame them in the slightest, and in her hearts she wasn’t sure if she could truly forgive her for it either, but… this had definitely been one big step in the right direction for Margin.

“Come on,” Marina spoke up, offering out a hand to her. She didn’t have to forgive Margin’s actions to accept her efforts. “You want to get something to eat on the way back?”

“Our crusty guy Sean does _really_ good waffles,” Pearl added, which may or may not have been helpful.

Margin hesitated for a long moment, watching Marina with her usual guarded look, like she thought Marina was conspiring something – but she must have pushed those thoughts aside for now, because she slowly reached out her non-injured hand, holding Marina’s in the lightest way possible. “Sure.”

For Margin, that might have been the biggest sign yet that she could change.

Maybe things weren’t perfect. Perhaps they never would be. But at least for now, with the octolings safely on the surface, the monsters gone, and Octavio back where he couldn’t cause any more problems… it really felt like they were much closer to everything being over at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> like 10 years ago whenever I wrote things I had warrior cats disease and would kill off like 50% of the cast but now I'm like no......... I cannot kill this one despicable man......... (however terrible I made him he's still an Iconic Canon Character)
> 
> also there's only the epilogue left now time happens so much!! see you on monday


	40. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here We Are....... the only content warnings for this I think are the mention of Faye's abusive mother, she doesn't actually appear at all (just Faye worrying abt what she might do) and maybe food??
> 
> Other than that just be aware that this chapter is like almost 12.5k words (so kinda long compared to the others) but a large chunk of it is basically fayrie fluff.... they've been thru a lot in this story it's what they deserve

“ **Are you sure you’re alright? Maybe you should get some more sleep.** ”

“ **I am _fine_.**” At the sound of that voice, so much harsher than she was used to hearing it, Margin hesitated outside the doorway to the kitchen. “ **I—sorry. I’ll be alright.** ”

Footsteps grew nearer, and Margin pressed herself a little closer to the wall as the tall octoling walked out of the room, an apple in hand. Anten instinctively glanced at the person standing by the door, being polite as ever despite how tired they looked, but as soon as they realised it was Margin they immediately averted their gaze, walking quickly past. The main thing Margin noticed, before they disappeared out of sight, was the way their hair twisted and curled the way most octolings’ did when they were distressed, when before it had only hung limply from their head, and Margin wondered if that had been an after-effect of what Octavio did to erase their memory.

She still didn’t know how to feel about them. Angry that they’d let Octavio get away with what he did? Upset that they were clearly distressed after Marina let them know what she’d found on that drive? Margin’s emotions were as difficult to decipher as they had always been, and she struggled even now to work out who she was supposed to like and who was an enemy.

At least she knew one thing, and that was that Octavio was definitely the octolings’ enemy. Marina had extracted so much from that drive, not just the information on Margin and _Base_ who she seemed to recognise but wouldn’t explain, but various mentions of other things Octavio had done even before his hypnoshades project started being logged – including some horrifying changes he’d made to the octolings’ DNA over the past century and the things he’d done to keep said changes. Margin had never stopped to think about why Octavio was the only octoling anywhere near his age.

There was also the fact that Octavio had kept them all underground for so long, purely because he didn’t want to share a home with the inklings that had beaten him in the war; he wanted _revenge_ , to _take_ _it_ from them, and as Margin had sat in the corner of the room listening to Marina show everyone all this, she felt like she could feel so many eyes on her despite their attention being on Marina. It felt like her entire being had been torn out and shown to her, only for her to realise it wasn’t _her_ at all.

Margin squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. No, she did not want to dwell on Anten for any longer. If they felt guilty about what they did, then sure. They could do that. It wasn’t her problem.

She finally walked into the kitchen with the aim of _make_ _toast_ , which was what she seemed to eat every single morning, and found Cecil in there, already putting bread in the toaster.

“ **Oh, hey Margin** ,” they greeted her, with a wary glance at the door, realising Anten had seen her on their way out. _Don’t make me feel bad about it. It’s not like I intended to go near them._ “ **You want toast? There’s only one slice left, but you can have one of mine, if you want.** ”

“ **Huh? Oh. No, one’s fine.** ” Margin shrugged, forcing herself not to watch _too_ closely as they put another slice in for her. There was no reason to distrust Cecil. She didn’t really know what to do now, though, awkwardly standing by the counter and staring at the microwave just because it was something to look at that wasn’t granite.

“ **You, uh… gonna watch the finals?”** Cecil asked, taking Margin’s silence as an excuse to start a conversation. **“They start soon, I think. Everyone’s gathering in the common room for it.** ”

That was… a good question. Margin hadn’t really thought about watching the tournament – she’d always hated it before, and then… well, basically destroyed the event. That was something she wasn’t going to bring up. Marina had offered to say nothing about her involvement in that attack to the other octolings, but Margin thought they deserved to know, even if that meant a large percentage of them probably wouldn’t trust her ever again. If Octavio was going to be held accountable for what he’d done, his stupid little puppet should as well.

The decision that he deserved the worst punishment Marina was capable of giving him was very unanimous amongst the octolings – even some of them were iffy on the morals of killing him, though, so Margin’s suggestion of messing with his memories to make him no longer a threat seemed to be going ahead.

She hadn’t been there to see what their decision on _her_ was. Marina told her the general consensus was that Margin had shown where her heart lay when she risked her life to get rid of that giant monster as well as helping on the mission, and therefore didn’t require a formal punishment, but Margin could tell by a few of their gazes that not everyone agreed.

“ **Margin**?”

Oh, right. Watching the tournament. “ **Nah… think I’ll give it a miss** ,” she responded with a shrug. Margin didn’t particularly want to sit in a room with all the other octolings, including the ones who still disliked her – and Anten. She’d been trying to avoid them as much as possible.

Once she had her buttered toast, Margin abandoned her plate in the kitchen and took her slice outside to eat, sitting on the wall around one of the courtyard’s flowerbeds and staring down the few pigeons who watched the falling crumbs from a safe distance. It felt less stuffy out here, in the fresh air, even if the breeze still made her burns feel crisp and sore. It carried a faint scent of rain after a small shower in the middle of the night, and birds tweeted from somewhere in the trees as the leaves rustled.

The surface really was nice, and Margin felt like she could appreciate it so much more when there wasn’t the weight of bitterness and vengeance crushing down on her shoulders. Perhaps she would go on a walk later. Already, she missed her bike, but Marina hadn’t been able to recover it from the city for her, and had admitted that letting her ride it when she was so young had been a poor decision on her behalf, saying that _maybe_ when Margin turned eighteen, if the situations at the time allowed for it, Marina would help her get an actual driving license. _Maybe_. There was no ‘promise’ in that offer, so Margin tried not to hold her to it – and it’d be a few years, anyway. She might forget by then.

And there was still part of her that wanted to patrol the entire city, to find any trace of a science laboratory with the resources to safely hold a reasonably-sized beast. She knew it would be a fruitless effort, but she could only hope that someday she might get to see Squidgy again, or if not, then that he would make a full recovery from his injuries and maybe, possibly, be released back to his home.

Margin could hear, faintly, the sound of the television inside the building, as well as the excited murmurs of the octolings as the tournament broadcast started. She was a _little_ interested in the matches, just a little, and considered sneaking back in to watch from the door or something so she wouldn’t be seen… but perhaps Miles would tell her the outcome of the competition later. He was somewhere in the city right now, watching the tournament with his inkling friend – Ilia, he’d said her name was – because one of their other inkling friends was taking part in it, as well as Eight and Agent 4.

She knew a simple apology wouldn’t fix the friendship between her and Miles, if it had ever truly existed in the first place, and he was someone else she’d tried avoiding at first. Despite the way she’d treated him before, though, he didn’t seem to have given up on her yet. He’d also been putting (in her opinion) way too much effort into thinking of a way to make some kind of prosthetic glove for her, to give her slightly more useable fingers on her left hand, and despite Margin’s protests that the two outermost ones being missing on her non-dominant hand really didn’t make _that_ much of a difference in her daily life, he wanted to do it anyway.

Margin had the feeling he was seeing if he could do something like this on a smaller scale, which would function and hold up, because he wanted to try and build some kind of basic prosthetic arm for Ilia. She just hoped that if he _did,_ and if that was something Ilia actually wanted, there would be a way for Miles to get materials for it that weren’t from a junkyard, because no matter how much he cleaned them, that was still kind of gross.

It was a sweet gesture all the same, in both cases. Miles’ inkling friends seemed a lot nicer than Margin had originally taken them for, and she wondered if there would be a way for her to apologise for picking a fight with them, but that also sounded _embarrassing_ and _complicated_ and she really didn’t want to think too much into it just yet. That was for future Margin to deal with. Right now she just wanted to explore her home more, now there wasn’t the added pressure of everything she saw being a potential tool for revenge.

She just wanted to relax and enjoy the surface the way she should’ve been able to from the start. Margin thought, perhaps, that wasn’t too much to ask for.

* * *

It had been a strange few days for Eight. Strange, and busy. Amidst the extra practice with her team, Marina sent her a message a few days after their final mission, a rather foreboding-sounding one; _I know what happened to you in the domes and why you can’t speak octarian, but I’d much rather tell you in person than over a text._ The lack of emotes showed just how serious it was, and Eight was a little afraid to find out – but she knew she had to, or else she’d only end up speculating further.

When she finally met up with Marina a day later, in the quiet setting of Pearl’s massive house, the past she learnt of was both different than anything she could’ve expected, and yet… somehow not. She knew there had to be some reason nobody in the domes remembered her; it was because they’d never known of her existence in the first place.

 _Base._ That was who she’d been, a test subject for Octavio – and, as she learnt, a side-experiment to Margin.

Marina had found the logs about her – by Anten, as she’d found out, who had no memory of any of this either after Octavio wiped their memory – but didn’t want to force Eight to have to read them herself, instead recounting their contents. When she was done, all Eight could manage to do was sit there in silence for a long moment as she took it all in.

 _They put a fake memory in me too._ Now all her nightmares about an old fight with Three, of being in an arena that made no sense based on the geography of the domes, a fight Three herself had absolutely no recollection of, made sense – because it had never actually happened in the first place.

It was scary, what Octavio could do.

“Does… does that mean I have to go by Base now…?” Eight had asked warily.

“No! No, no, of course not, you never _have_ to be someone you don’t want to be,” Marina had quickly assured, pulling her into a hug, a quiet sniffle in her words. “You’re our Eight – and you know if you ever choose any different, we’ll support you all the way.”

And Eight had also found herself crying, and she wasn’t sure why that was – learning what’d happened to her, or Marina’s support, or just the fact that everything _finally_ made sense after all this time.

She’d also finally found the courage to speak to Marina about her pronouns, something she’d wanted to do for a long while but had never found a good time for, but Three had been supporting her for such a long time now that she really hoped Marina would too, and after her promise just now, that gave her the reassurance she needed. Marina was, as she’d hoped, very supportive, smiling brightly as she promised to use both ‘they’ and ‘she’ when referring to Eight from now on. With Eight’s permission, she’d called Pearl into the room to let her know as well.

“See, they really _do_ take after me,” Marina had giggled as she rocked Eight from side to side a little in her hug.

That just left the task of speaking to her teammates about it, but Eight had decided she was going to do that after finals were over. She was a little more apprehensive about the way they would react, but… she trusted them, and she had the feeling they would accept her decision. For now, she would focus on the competition that lay ahead of her and do her best.

There was a certain unease to her teammates after what had happened at the last event, but Eight felt like, at the very least, Mercedes didn’t seem quite as concerned over the matches being against her ex-girlfriend anymore.

A cooling salty breeze drifted through Piranha Pit as they stood at spawn in preparation for their first match. There wasn’t much of a visible audience here, unlike there had been in Goby Arena – which was still undergoing repairs and therefore wouldn’t be appearing in any matches for a long while – but Eight knew their matches were being recorded from various angles and broadcasted live onto television, and that still made her just a _little_ nervous.

“We got this,” Mercedes told them, lifting up her heavy splatling deco as the match start timer ticked down. “No matter the outcome, we just do our best and have fun.”

“Yeah!” the rest of them cheered in unison, more than ready for the challenge they faced.

The timer reached zero, the horn blared, and seven squids and one octopus dashed out from their respective spawns.

Team Geode was, without a doubt, one of if not _the_ strongest team that Mace had ever faced before, but they put up the best fight they possibly could. It felt like a struggle at first, even though tower control was Eight’s best mode, and Geode won that first match after holding onto a strong lead since the beginning. They took the next victory too, rainmaker on Camp Triggerfish where Eight’s flank hadn’t been enough to stop the strong push Geode had into their base, with Delilah’s brella shield creating a path for them down the narrow straight, and Four using the protected trail to wipe the rest of Eight’s team.

Splat zones on Arowana Mall was next, and that was where Mercedes’ skill really shined, blocking off Harper and Four’s repeated attempts to flank them, as Eight clung to walls and snuck around to take out Ada before her sniping skills could become a problem. She quickly realised after their first few matches that she needed to keep checking the map for beakons, because Delilah was really good at choosing places for them, but Mace finally managed to take a victory, if only by a few points.

Clam blitz on Walleye didn’t do them quite so well, and it was mostly because of Harper. The enthusiastic little squid was an unstoppable bullet in this mode, using the walls as a stepping stool to hop around people on the other team and burst through to break their barrier with a power clam – and once she was out, a lot of Mace was splatted by Ada’s splashdown superjump into their base, which gave Geode a lead that Mace couldn’t recover from, even as they pushed into overtime.

They fought through, and Eight was having the time of her life even when she felt her muscles starting to tire. Matches passed, and Mace managed to cling to enough victories to draw the finals out to the ninth and last possible match with four wins each. Everything now came down to splat zones on Sturgeon Shipyard.

Both teams fought as hard as they could, putting all their energy into this final match. Eight felt like almost every splat she got was a trade, most of the time with Four, and for the first half of the match they held onto a lead of 37 points. Geode fought back with all their strength and tactics, though, managing to wipe their opponents and push further into their base, not giving up even an inch. Eight finally managed to sneak through, coming out victorious in a fight with Delilah on the zone, but Geode had made it down to 9 points left by the time she could take it for her own team.

They pushed into overtime with their penalty just running out and their points beginning to tick down again – and that was when Four burst from the ink behind Eight, taking her by surprise as she was splatted along with Arty, and an explosion of Delilah’s bubbles over the zone neutralised it as well as taking out Chance just as their timer reached 11. Mercedes, alone, was not able to take the zone back by herself before Geode had it covered and the match ended.

Team Geode were the victors, but Mace had put up an incredibly good fight, especially when they’d entered into the quarter-finals in eighth place.

Any disappointment they had at losing was overpowered by the sheer adrenaline after their tough and close matches, and as they waited in the temporarily-non-public section of the lobby to see where the staff wanted them to go next, all four of them were out of breath with smiles on their faces.

“Eight, Eight, _Eight_!”

That was all the warning she got that she was about to be pounced on as Harper dashed up to her, grabbing her arms and hopping excitedly. “That was _so_ _much_ _fun_! You and your team are so _strong_!”

“I—um—thank you?” Eight responded a little dazed and awkwardly. How Harper still had this much energy even after all those tough matches was forever a mystery, but Eight found herself smiling regardless, not feeling even the slightest bitterness about the defeat, especially when Harper was so nice about it.

Of course, the rest of Harper’s team wasn’t far behind, and Eight found herself tensing up a little when she saw Delilah approaching. She wasn’t the only one, as she saw Merce’s wary look, the expression of someone who expected hostility to be thrown her way, maybe assuming Delilah had come to gloat.

“Hey, Sadie,” Delilah spoke, her voice lacking the spite from last time she’d encountered her ex in the lobby. “Uh—good job. In the matches? You put up a good fight. I thought you had that last one for sure.” She paused for a moment, before finally holding out a hand. “So—yeah. Good games.”

Mercedes stared at her for a moment, the surprise clear on her face. “Um—yeah, I—good—good games.” She reached out to shake Delilah’s hand, still holding some caution, expecting the tone to suddenly shift. It didn’t, and Eight noticed Four and Ada share a subtle high-five in the background.

“Right. Yeah. That was—that’s it, really. Cool? Cool.” Delilah gave a somewhat awkward nod as she took her hand back. “Um… see you all at the announcement ceremony in a few minutes, I guess.”

“Uhh, sure! Right. Bye?” Mercedes offered a slightly dumbfounded wave as Delilah left, and exchanged confused and surprised expressions with the rest of her team.

“Gotta go!” Harper spoke up, letting go of Eight to chase after her captain. “See you soon, Eight! Oh—there’s, like, a super cool movie coming out next week, we should go see it maybe!”

Eight blinked in surprise at the sudden change of subject, not expecting to have a sudden plan suggestion thrown at her after the tournament. “Um—sure?” Hopefully Harper was actually going to follow up more on that potential plan later, because she didn’t give any other information before she was out of sight. As they left, Eight noticed Four wave to them all too, though she was pretty sure it was aimed _mostly_ at Chance.

“Aww,” Mercedes cooed. “Looks like Eight has a date.”

“Ye— _what_?” Eight turned her stunned gaze on Mercedes, expecting her teasing to be aimed at Chance, who had gone out to lunch with Four at _least_ twice in the past few weeks and had refused to share any details about it when prompted. She didn’t think Harper had meant the movie offer to be a _date_.

Unless she did? Oh. Oh cod.

… Maybe Eight wouldn’t mind going on a date with Harper, actually. She had… absolutely no idea what to do on a date, though. Until a few months ago, she didn’t even know the term ‘date’ meant anything other than the number and month of the current day.

Arty saw her shocked and confused expression and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Never fear, dearest Eight, for I am an _expert_ on dating and can tell you everything you need to know—”

“Do not listen to a word he says,” Mercedes interrupted with a laugh, pushing him away. “Anyway, I was just teasing, but you never know! Maybe our little Eight has some lesbian in her yet.” She ruffled Eight’s hair, rather disproving the ‘little’ part by the fact she had to reach slightly above her own height to do it.

“As soon as the ceremony is over, I think we deserve a consolation prize,” Chance suggested. “Pizza night?”

“Pizza night,” they all nodded in agreement, and Eight had never felt so excited for a meal in her life.

* * *

“Look at those bubbles GO! Oh— _oh_! They stopped the zone!” Callie’s enthusiastic yelling over the broadcast seemed to fill the square, and all across it, inklings and octolings and various other sea creatures were at the edge of their seats as the close match drew to an end – and if Faye had just a little more energy, she would definitely have been one of them. “Three of Mace are down!”

“It doesn’t look like Mercedes can take the zone back on her own,” Marie correctly predicted as the zone turned pink and the whistle blew – and the crowd burst into cheer. “That’s it! Geode takes it! They’re our first league tournament winners!”

 _You got pretty close, Eight._ Faye managed a small smile up at the screen from where she sat near the edge of the crowd. They’d definitely put up a good fight, and she was glad she finally got the chance to watch them play on a reasonable quality screen, even if her head was _very_ upset about all the noise right now.

Faye managed to put up with the volume of the crowd for long enough to watch the ceremony, as each of Team Geode were given a golden league medal, and Team Mace silver ones, but as soon as that was done and both Marie and Eight were no longer on the broadcast for her to watch, she pulled the heavy-ish bag from under her seat, slung it over her good shoulder, and began to make her way slowly to the plaza.

Her stomach had been twisting with nerves all day, a few of them excitement but most of them not. Faye’s morning had been spent double-checking things and staring at a piece of paper, as she’d made the inevitable decision that telling her mother she was leaving face-to-face was _not_ going to go well and would probably very quickly dissolve into her being shouted at, and possibly crying, and then being shouted at _more_ for that. Her mother wanted her to leave, but also wanted obsessive control over everything she did, and she would definitely take out the conflicting problem of this on Faye. That was why she decided to leave a note instead, unlock her door so her mother wouldn’t have to break into her room to find it, and leave through her bedroom window instead of the front door, just like every other time she snuck out. Climbing out a window quietly when you had a heavy bag and only one fully-functioning arm was a harder task than she’d first anticipated, but she’d managed, even if it took a lot longer than she thought it would.

Now she never had to go back there again, but that didn’t mean she was safe just yet. There was still a chance her mother could find the note sooner than she’d hoped and go after her, search the city for her to try and drag her back, and as Faye watched the finals hoping that the crowd would be enough to hide her if she _did_ , it felt like she spent half her time scanning it to make sure her mother wasn’t there searching for her.

Hopefully the paranoia would wear off soon. Faye had no clue where Marie lived and she’d known her for years, so there was very little chance of her mother finding her there.

It didn’t take long to walk to the plaza, and Faye knew she might have to wait a while, so she found the most out-of-sight bench to sit and wait on, pulling the bag onto her lap and hugging it against her despite how dusty it was from being stored under her bed for years. Most of what she’d stuffed into it now was old clothes that still fit her and didn’t have any particularly negative memories attached, but there were a handful of other things as well; an old Pokémon game she’d played a lot as a kid as well as the slightly busted DS for it, her old turf weapon back from when the lobby had been here in the hopes Sheldon might let her trade it in for the up-to-date model, a small handful of cash she must have saved up when she was really young and then hidden in the bottom of her closet (enough for a few basic groceries when she returned to the cabin, maybe), and… the stuffed dog she’d had for most of her life. He had a gaping fluff wound in his side now that definitely hadn’t been there before, and Faye hoped she could find some way to fix him without being too heavily judged for her sentimentality about a stuffed toy.

Faye closed her eyes, letting a dark blue colour wash over her tentacles so that she wouldn’t be as easy to recognise if her mother did decide to try searching for her around here, and tried to will the painful tension out of her body. Most of the bruises from the fall were at least starting to heal up now if not gone completely, and her left arm had now formed a currently-blue-tinted vague blob shape which would soon become a hand. She would have to go back to the hospital at some point during the week to pick up a medical glove to help keep its form and protect her regrown skin; hopefully Marie would be willing to accompany her for that, because she didn’t feel like she could handle going to that place again by herself.

It was over half an hour before she noticed a familiar figure across the plaza, in dark-coloured clothes and hair tied back unlike the look she’d just had on the screens, and Faye hopped back to her feet, heaving the bag onto her shoulder, re-energized. She’d known it would take a while before Marie was able to leave after commentating on the tournament, and honestly Faye had been prepared to wait a lot longer if she had to, but now she just wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. She saw Marie looking around the plaza and quickly let her hair fade back to its natural yellow, because Marie was someone she _wanted_ to notice her.

As soon as she did, a bright smile from beneath her facemask wrinkled her eyes, and she walked up to meet her, immediately pulling her into a hug. “Everything go okay?”

Faye longed to snuggle in closer to her embrace, but even the feeling of safety she got from Marie wasn’t enough to overpower her current nerves out here. “I took my stuff and left a note. I don’t know if she’ll try to come after me when she finds it.”

“If she does, she’s going to have hell to pay,” Marie said in a rather threatening way. Faye appreciated the sentiment, but she _really_ didn’t want Marie getting hurt trying to defend her. “Alright, we’ll get you out of here. Are you okay to make a short detour to pick up some lunch? My throat’s dry as hell.”

Oh yeah. She’d just commentated nine matches in a row, a lot of which went into overtime. Faye nodded slowly against the side of her head, reluctantly leaving the embrace. “Yeah.”

“Nice. There’s a few take-out places on the way that should be open. You can have anything you want.” Marie caressed her cheek for a moment, unable to kiss her while wearing a mask, and her eyes fell to Faye’s shoulder. “Want me to carry your bag for a while?”

“I can manage for now,” Faye shook her head. “It’s not that heavy.”

“Okay. We can head off then. This way.” Marie reached for her hand, and Faye took it eagerly, relishing in the warmth and comfort.

This was it. No more of her mother’s house. Just Marie.

Faye didn’t know where they were going, but she didn’t mind; she wasn’t too fussed about what the food was, but she hadn’t eaten today and her sleep had been restless for weeks, and now that she was here, Marie’s hand in hers, she really just wanted to have _something_ and then maybe take a nap. The place they ended up getting their food from was a sandwich bar Marie was familiar with, and Faye just picked the first thing on the menu that seemed vaguely appealing – which was just the first thing on the menu. Once Marie had their little bag of food, she asked Faye if she wanted to swap bags; either Faye looked really tired carrying hers, or Marie just felt bad she was carrying it after being injured so badly a couple weeks ago.

“But if I carry the food, I won’t be able to hold your _hand_ ,” Faye pointed out, which turned out to be a very persuasive argument.

Then the next stop was _home,_ and Faye felt a new burst of energy as she realised she was about to see what kind of place Marie lived in. Definitely not anywhere as abundant as Pearl’s mansion, if the lack of a spare bed was anything to go on. “So, are there, like… house rules, or anything?” she asked after they’d walked in comfortable silence for a while.

“Hmm? Oh, right.” Marie gave a thoughtful look, aimed at the bag swinging lightly from her hand. “Uhh… I don’t know? You’re welcome to anything in the fridge, Callie has a cupboard of snacks she’s started fights with me over taking before so avoid that, um… try not to disrupt her routines too much? I guess?” Marie shrugged with a small laugh. “I don’t know. I haven’t really had anyone stay over, like, ever. Keep anything made of rubber away from me, that’s about all I can think of.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Faye nodded, even though there was absolutely no chance of her asking for extra food and she didn’t _think_ she had anything like that on her.

They hadn’t walked far before Marie guided her down a somewhat quieter road just outside the busiest part of the city, one lined with cars along one side because whoever planned the building here hadn’t accounted for how much residential parking would be needed. There were a few medium-height apartment buildings here, not as big as some of the borderline _skyscrapers_ in the centre of Inkopolis, but more akin to Flounder Heights. Marie stopped outside one near the middle of the street, with a small paved yard surrounded by off-white walls that had fallen victim to a few muddy puddle splashes, and rusty hinges on the gap leading to the two-meter path to the front door as if there _had_ been a gate here at one point, but it had since been removed, either for convenience or because it was too loud when people used it.

The front of the building was locked by a fingerprint scanner, which made Faye feel a little safer, even though it was unlikely her mother would track her down to this place anyway. “Make sure you get Callie’s number when she gets home,” Marie told her. “I mean, it’s probably unlikely you’d get stuck out here alone while I’m not in, but… just in case. The neighbours won’t let a stranger in.”

Once inside, they took the lift that Marie voiced her distrust for (which was also out-of-order a lot, apparently, and Faye braced herself to finally get some exercise in the coming week), and emerged on the third floor of the building. Faye followed Marie down the corridor, with its worn carpet and cream walls that made the place seem bright despite the overcast sky, and stopped outside a door marked with the number 206. She unlocked it with a key fob and hesitated for just a moment before leading the way in, nervous about Faye seeing her place for the first time.

Faye’s initial assumption of ‘a place like Pearl’s but maybe smaller’ had quickly faded before entering the building, but when she stepped through the door into the short entrance area, she found herself looking around in awe. The apartment wasn’t _tiny_ , but it wasn’t huge either, and what she could see from here didn’t feel too cramped while also not feeling like it stretched on forever like the rooms in Pearl’s mansion. There was the living room with a three-cushioned sofa and the TV behind a coffee table against the far wall, an electric heater made to look like a fireplace with various little souvenirs decorating its mantel, and a kitchen segmented off only by the change to tiled flooring and a line of counters stemming from the wall, where all the objects on the surfaces were organised so neatly that Marie must have made an effort to tidy up before her guest arrived. All the connecting doors were closed, but Faye could tell from the shape of the walls that the small room to the left was a bathroom, and the two doors along the back wall led to Marie and Callie’s bedrooms; the one on the right had a pink heart-shaped decoration pinned to the centre of it, so that one was definitely Callie’s.

“So, uh—make yourself at home,” Marie said, a little bashfully, as she motioned to her place with one arm. “You can put your bag in my room if you want, I guess? I mean, Callie’s not likely to go through your stuff or anything, but it’ll be out of the way there.”

Faye nodded, kicking off her shoes as Marie had done and trying to nudge them into an equally-neat position, and took in her surroundings more as she followed Marie to her room, eager to see what her girlfriend’s space looked like. There were probably limitations to how much she could personalise the place, since it was an apartment and not a house, but Faye was already amazed by just how _homely_ everything was. The two of them must have been living here since they first arrived in Inkopolis.

The bedrooms were much smaller than the living room, but since they bordered the side of the building they did have windows, letting some natural light in as Marie leaned over the corner of her bed to open the dark green curtains. Her room was full yet organised, with a small-double bed, a desk with an alarming amount of paper strewn across it around a closed laptop, a stuffed-looking small bookcase, and a walk-in wardrobe behind the outermost wall which seemed to have a lot of old boxes in it, possibly where most of the storage was.

Faye set her bag down in a place that looked out of the way, underneath a wall-mounted coat rack that held a few things including Marie’s Agent 2 cardigan and cap. “Your place is so _nice_ ,” she gushed as she gazed around at Marie’s room, feeling her anxiousness begin to melt away at last. A corkboard took up most of the wall behind Marie’s desk, decorated with various newspaper clippings and photos and a couple of enamel pins, and Faye smiled as she saw a lesbian flag hanging from one corner. _Now I just want to kiss her again._

“Thanks,” Marie said with a quiet laugh and a smile as she took off her mask, hanging it from the limb of a wooden squid figure on the corner of her desk which must have been its usual place. “I’m starving. You wanna watch anything specific while we eat?”

Faye followed her back out, realising what she meant. “I… haven’t watched television in, like, ten years.”

“Okay. Random channel it is.”

Lunch was _good_ , though Faye wished she’d had the foresight to choose something that was in more pieces, because holding a large sandwich with one hand was more difficult than she’d anticipated. Full and warm, she stared at the television while Marie finished her food, watching what ended up just being the news; the topic of the day was the tournament, showing a few clips from the final matches, and Faye winced a little as they made mention of the horrors that had occurred at the last event. Marie reached for the remote and changed channels after that, leaving them with some kind of soap drama instead. The straight people were fighting, which seemed about average for what Faye knew about those shows.

Once Marie was done, and refused Faye’s help on clearing up because she was a _guest_ and still technically _recovering_ (maybe this place wasn’t _entirely_ different from Pearl’s after all), Faye decided it was time to do something about the one reminder still messing with her nerves. “Can I, like… use your shower?” She wanted to get rid of the smell of that house.

“Yeah, sure, of course,” Marie nodded. “D’you need to borrow something to change into?”

“I mean, I have other clothes, but…” Faye let her sentence trail off.

“We can run them through the washer,” Marie offered, her voice a little quieter even though they were the only ones here currently. She’d noticed the smell, and Faye felt her ears twitching in embarrassment, but at least Marie was being nice about it and helping her – and hadn’t acknowledged it until now, despite all the times they’d been close in the past few weeks.

Marie left Faye for a moment to familiarise herself with the bathroom, which the people who designed this place had squeezed both a bath and shower into even though they could easily have been combined into one to save space, and returned a few minutes later with a small bundle of clothes folded neatly into a pile as well as a towel. “Let me know if anything doesn’t fit.” After a quick rundown of how the shower worked (appreciated) and which soap she could use, Marie left her to her own devices, and Faye heard the television switch a few channels as she looked for something to watch in the meantime.

Faye hadn’t taken such a long shower in years, after the cabin’s lack of running hot water and the fear at her mother’s house of getting screamed at for being an inconvenience if she occupied the bathroom for too long, and this time she stayed until the water started to make her left arm sore. Once she was dry, she changed into the clothes Marie left for her and looked at her blurry reflection in the steamed-up mirror. The grey slacks were a _little_ too long for her, bunching up around the elastic at her ankles, but the green-and-navy checked shirt looked nice. It didn’t smell of smoke and it reminded her of Marie; those were the most important things, to her.

When she emerged, with her old clothes bundled into her hoodie for now because she wasn’t sure where to leave them, Faye quickly noticed that Marie had fallen asleep while waiting, huddled in the corner of the sofa with her head flopped to the side. Faye smiled softly, walking as quietly as she could into the kitchen just to check whether there was a washing machine in the apartment or if they’d have to travel somewhere to do laundry – there was one here, fortunately – and snuck into Marie’s room for a moment to place her old clothes near her bag, before making her way back to the sofa. She debated what to do for a moment, not wanting to wake Marie for no reason, but… she probably wasn’t _intentionally_ taking a nap, and if she stayed in her current position for too long it’d hurt her neck. Faye eventually settled for slowly sinking back down onto the sofa, lightly leaning against Marie’s side.

“Mnh…?” Marie’s eyes blinked open at the contact, her expression confused for a few seconds as she tried to recall what was happening and why Faye was in her house. “Oh. Sorry. I guess I fell asleep.”

“No, you’re good,” Faye hummed, snuggling more comfortably against her now that she was awake, placing a kiss on her cheek before resting her head on her shoulder. “You can sleep more if you want. I’m tired.”

“Tempting,” Marie yawned, managing to get an arm around Faye, holding her closer and tracing gentle shapes on the back of her shoulders, which _really_ made her want to close her eyes and fall asleep. “I don’t know what time Callie’s getting back. She said she wanted to make dinner for all of us, so… within a few hours, at least.”

“Enough time for a nap,” Faye persisted.

“Okay, okay,” Marie laughed. “You can use me as a pillow, if you must.”

Faye must have fallen asleep at some point soon after that, because soon she awoke to a gentle kiss on her forehead and a squeeze of her shoulder, and a lingering sound in her memory that may have happened while she was still half-conscious.

“Callie’s on her way back,” Marie said softly. “She wants to know if there’s any food you don’t like.”

Oof, that was a very thought-requiring question for how incredibly half-asleep she felt right now. Faye drew in a slow breath, realising she’d apparently been a bit more cuddly in her sleep than she thought and was now almost on top of Marie, her face half-buried in her collar. _Whoops._ Feeling her face get a few degrees warmer, Faye slid away to sit back at her side instead, going to rub the sleep from her eyes until making contact with her face made her not-quite-hand sting, and she remembered the injury. “Uhh… mushrooms, I guess. Anything that tastes like pure sugar. That’s about it.”

“Chicken okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright,” Marie nodded, typing something into her phone which was no doubt a message to her cousin. She shifted her position from the one she’d probably been stuck in for a while with Faye asleep on her, leaning against Faye’s side instead and resting her head against her non-injured arm. “I’ll try to make sure she doesn’t make _too_ much food. She goes a little overboard sometimes.”

Twenty minutes later, footsteps sounded in the hallway outside. Marie sighed, moving from the comfortable position to turn down the volume on the television neither of them had been paying much attention to, and Faye regretfully sidled away from her girlfriend, already missing her warmth. Callie entered the apartment with a shopping bag and far too much energy for Faye’s still-tired brain, but she seemed excited to have a friend staying with them. Once she was done putting away anything that needed to be in the fridge, chatting away the whole time, she flopped down onto the sofa with them on Faye’s other side, probably also exhausted after work and then whatever she’d been out doing all day.

“Aw, Faye, you look nice in Marie’s clothes!” she said with a bright grin.

“Um—thanks?” Faye responded a little uncertainly. The fact that Callie had noticed meant Marie had probably given her something she wore semi-often. _Wow, my girlfriend is really cute._

Marie’s cheeks flushed when that was pointed out, and she shot her cousin a glare from across the sofa, which quickly dissolved with a look of realisation. “Oh—right. We were going to do laundry. Should probably do that now.”

Stuffing her clothes into the washing machine didn’t take long, and Faye decided to trust Marie with the settings as she made her way back to the sofa to sit down, although that _did_ leave her here with Callie. Even when she was relaxing after a busy day, she was still alert and upright, having to drag her swinging legs up onto the couch so she didn’t trip Faye over as she walked past.

“So! Faye.” Callie began, a sentence which brought fear into the hearts of squids. “You any good at Smash?”

It took Faye a moment to work out what she was talking about. _Oh. The video game._ She held up her wobbly-looking left arm. “With one hand?”

“… Oh! Right. I forgot. Whoops!”

Faye rolled her eyes with a good-natured smile. Even if Callie being here was just a _little_ awkward when she didn’t know she was talking to her cousin’s girlfriend yet, it was nice to spend time with her again, especially now that Callie seemed to have forgiven her for everything she’d been holding against her last time they had a one-to-one conversation. It wasn’t long before Callie dragged her poor tired cousin into video games instead, and Faye was content to watch as Marie absolutely destroyed her in everything, but Callie was not deterred by this.

When it started to get late, Callie set her unquenchable energy on cooking instead, asking for Marie’s help on chopping a few things – “she’s scared of using knives” Marie had told Faye, quietly but loud enough that Callie would hear and pout at her for it – and Faye smiled as she listened to them bickering with each other in the kitchen, ignoring the show they’d left on for her.

“Callie, you’re aware there’s only _three_ of us here, right?” Marie checked, a sign there was probably rather a lot of food being prepared.

“It’s _fine_ , we can have leftovers!” There was a rattling of metal as Callie searched for the correct oven tray. “Besides, I gotta make something special, it’s not often my baby cousin brings a _girl_ over.”

“Oh, shush!” Marie scoffed at her, and Faye just about managed to stifle the laugh that would’ve given away that she could hear. “ _Five_ _weeks_ , Callie, I’m not your _baby_ cousin.”

Callie just giggled in response to that, followed by a few seconds of silence. “… You can eat this, right?”

“No idea. If I get terrible stomach pain I guess I’ll know not to eat the leftovers.”

With no dining tables in the apartment, they ate in front of the TV, something Callie and Marie were used to but Faye a little less, although fortunately Marie had learned from watching her struggle earlier and cut up the food for her so she could eat it with just a fork. It was nice, warm food and friends and the silly movie Callie had put on because ‘everyone needs to see it _at_ _least_ once’. Faye noticed when reaching over for her glass of water that her hand wasn’t shaking anymore, now she was in a place where she felt safe and loved. Even if she would only be able to stay here for a week, she was still monumentally grateful that Marie had helped her, that she was _here_ right now and free from her mother and not spending her time alone in a half-collapsed cabin.

The three of them spent the rest of the evening watching gameshows, which was Callie’s suggestion but apparently one of Marie’s favourite television-based pastimes, and Faye learned that her own knowledge of pop culture was abysmally small and general knowledge wasn’t much better. She liked watching Marie as she stared thoughtfully at the questions, the way she reacted smugly whenever Callie pulled a face at her for getting it right, the bashful way she grinned when Faye commended how smart she was. _I love you. I love you so much._ Faye had to say it in her head while Callie was here and listening, but she meant it all the same.

A few hours later, Callie yawned and announced she was going to bed. “Don’t stay up _too_ late,” she warned, pointing specifically at Marie when she said that, who rolled her eyes.

“Fine. I will appease the great Callie and at least get _ready_ for bed,” Marie scoffed. She hesitated for a moment, looking at Faye. “… Your clothes aren’t going to be dry enough to wear yet, I’ll see if I have some spare pyjamas or something.”

“A t-shirt and shorts or something is fine,” Faye said. “Thanks.”

Marie returned with Faye’s suggestion as well as a pillow and blanket for her wonderful bed of the couch (which was, in all honesty, more comfortable than the bed in the cabin), and once both of them were ready for bed but with no real intention to sleep just yet – Callie always went to bed _very_ early, Marie told her – they settled down to watch another movie, this time with the cousin-is-watching restraints released. As soon as Marie sat back down, a dressing gown over her nightclothes because late April hadn’t yet graced them with warm nights, Faye was huddled against her side in an instant, ready to seek out the affection she’d been craving all afternoon.

When the movie started Faye was very much in the mindset of ‘kissing my girlfriend is much more interesting than whatever this is’, and then ended up getting unexpectedly invested in the story. She didn’t even realise she’d spent the past five minutes watching the film from Marie’s lap until her girlfriend shyly prompted her to move and sit beside her again so Faye could watch without twisting her body around, and both of them ended up giggling quietly together, a little embarrassed. Faye struggled to stay awake for the full movie after that, snuggled up to her cosy warm girlfriend, and though she agreed to another movie after she spent the entire hour and a half drifting in and out of sleep.

“I think,” Marie said softly when the credits rolled, “you might be a little sleepy.”

“Mmm,” Faye murmured, not bothering to deny her as she buried her face deeper in the fluffy material of Marie’s dressing gown.

Marie gave a small laugh, her hand running over the back of Faye’s hair, and yawned. “I’ll let you get some rest. It’s super early, but you’re making _me_ sleepy too.”

Faye sighed, reluctantly peeling herself away from her girlfriend. She made a quick check of her phone to see what time it actually was – half midnight, which seemed far from _super_ early, and made her a little worried for Marie based on what her average bedtime was based on that – before placing it back on the coffee table as quietly as she could. “Goodnight kiss?” she asked sleepily.

Marie’s smile was so beautiful, even when Faye could barely keep her eyes open long enough to see her. She leaned in for the softest kiss, her hands gently cupping Faye’s cheeks for a few seconds after as she touched her forehead against hers. “Goodnight,” she soothed, remaining there just a moment longer to lift her head and lay another quick kiss on Faye’s forehead before she finally left to go and sleep.

Faye flopped unceremoniously onto the couch, hugging her pillow tightly in her arms as she curled up under her blanket. Her hearts felt so full of _love_ , a wonderful soft feeling that kept a smile on her face even as she drifted off into sleep. Marie had somehow managed to unlock an incredibly sappy part of her personality that she’d never known existed until recently, and although Faye was a little embarrassed to admit that, she was absolutely okay with it.

* * *

A sudden light threatened to drag Faye out of unconsciousness, but she burrowed deeper under the blanket to avoid it. _No. Tired._ There were a few distant-sounding noises, ignorable ones, until a harsh beep finally broke through and dragged her back into the waking world with a sleepy groan. Where was she again…?

Her question was answered by a stifled squeak of surprise, along with a quiet “oh! Sorry!” from somewhere nearby. She blinked open her eyes, met with the natural-coloured lights that filled the room and the lingering scent of her girlfriend around her from their cosy evening, and Faye’s brief anxiousness began to settle as she remembered where she was. Finally, she woke up somewhere and it was where she _wanted_ to be.

Maybe she didn’t want to be awake quite yet, though, but she could hear the rumbling of the microwave as it rotated its platter, and she knew that noise was going to be too irritating for her to fall back asleep through it.

Faye dragged herself up into sitting with the blanket still wrapped around her shoulders, rubbing at her eyes with the correct hand this time. She had no idea what time it was, but it felt _early_.

The buzzing stopped a few minutes later, and it wasn’t long before Callie entered her sleepy field of vision, holding a bowl in her hands. “Sorry!” she apologised again, keeping her voice down. “Forgot you were here. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“’s fine,” Faye mumbled, reaching over to pick up her pillow so Callie had some space to sit down.

“Did you sleep well?” Callie asked, way too cheery for this time of day as she plopped down next to her, coming dangerously close to spilling hot porridge on herself.

“I… think so…?” Faye didn’t really know what sleeping _well_ meant, but she had very much turned into a log for the entire night, if that counted. She picked up her phone to look at the time again, greeted with 07:22 on her screen. “Why are you up so _early_?”

“Because!” Callie said with a grin, reaching for the remote and dragging the television’s volume down to 0 while it was still in the process of loading a channel. “Did Marie make you stay up late? Sometimes I get up and she’s still awake.”

“Nah. I think she went to bed at… a reasonable time,” Faye shrugged, knowing Callie was probably thinking of a different number than she was for that. She stared at the television for a long moment, her brain too foggy from sleep to take anything in, and eventually gave up, pulling the blanket more securely over her shoulders so she could carry her pillow, and stood up.

“Where ya goin’?” Callie asked with a spoon in her mouth, not making any attempt to stop her.

“Marie,” Faye responded simply as she left.

“Okay, but I warn ya, she can get _real_ grumpy if you wake her up,” Callie warned. “She might just kick you out her room. If you wanna sleep more, you can take a nap on my bed if you want. I’m not using it right now.”

“Thanks,” Faye muttered sleepily, a little surprised at the kind offer. “I’ll risk it anyway.”

“Good luck!”

A small smile found its way onto Faye’s face at the sentiment, as she stuffed the pillow under her elbow and carefully turned the handle on Marie’s door. It wasn’t locked, which was nice, because she was still in Callie’s line of sight and if she hit a hurdle this early it would just be embarrassing. That also begged the question of how Callie had managed to walk from her own room to the kitchen without noticing Faye asleep on the sofa… but there weren’t any light switches on this wall, so she probably just hadn’t been able to see well enough.

It was comfortably dark in Marie’s room, with just the faint glow of the sunrise light through her curtains. Marie didn’t stir at the sound of the door, and Faye struggled to close it equally as quietly behind her without dropping anything she was holding. Part of her wanted to just curl up on the floor and go back to sleep, but the floor was probably very hard and also Marie would most likely think she was very weird if she did that.

Faye walked up to the side of the bed, watching for a moment as she tried to decide what to do now she’d gotten past step one of ‘enter the room’. Marie was curled up on her side, facing away from her, and the little of what Faye could see of her expression was calm and relaxed with undisturbed sleep. _She’s so cute. And beautiful. And various similar words but I am NOT awake enough to think of them all._

Her half-asleep brain was too fogged up to think of an actual plan, and she ended up just sinking to her knees, folding her arms over the edge of the mattress with the pillow on top for her to rest her head on – _ow ow ow my bad arm does not like touching things_ – and then figured she should probably have Marie’s permission if she wanted to fall asleep here, and the only thing she could think to do about that was reach out to place her hand on the part of the duvet mound she was pretty sure was Marie’s shoulder.

She finally moved at that, the sudden intake of breath showing that had woken her up. Marie curled up more, letting out a quiet whine. “Callie, let me _sleep_ , I don’t even have _work_ today.”

“Not Callie,” Faye mumbled quietly, her voice half-muffled by the pillow as she drew her arm back.

Marie’s ear twitched at the sound of her voice, and she soon pushed herself into sitting up. “Oh. Hey,” she said, trying to rub the sleep from her eyes. “Good… morning? Everything okay?” She reached out her free hand to hold Faye’s, her movement slow and tired.

“Mm.” Faye closed her eyes, curling her fingers around Marie’s hand. “Your microwave is loud.”

“Microwave…?” Marie’s tone held a note of confusion before the gears clicked into place. “Oh. Callie woke you up. Sorry about that.” She gave a small laugh. Her touched vanished, and Faye blinked up at her to see why, noticing Marie glance at her closed door. Then she patted the mattress next to her. “Come on, sleepy. She probably won’t bother us in here.”

That was enough to snap Faye’s brain into being slightly more awake, if only for a moment; she hadn’t expected _bed_ _rights_ to be the outcome of this, but yes she did in fact absolutely want to cuddle her girlfriend more. Faye abandoned her makeshift bedding, polite enough to place the pillow and blanket at the foot of the mattress rather than just dropping it on the floor, and flopped onto the bed. Her logical brain activated just long enough for her to quickly shrink into squid form, using it to hop over to Marie’s other side – which was more difficult when one of the limbs was a little deformed, and she managed not to wince when she changed back and it made her arm sting – so that she could hold Marie without her putting any weight on her left arm. Marie giggled sleepily at her antics, pulling the duvet up to envelope them both as she settled against her, nestling her head under Faye’s chin.

She was so warm and soft and _nice_ and Faye didn’t have the words to express any of this, simply wriggling her way into the most comfortable position possible and kissing the top of Marie’s head. “Love you,” she murmured, already overcome with sleepiness once again.

She felt Marie’s quiet huff of gleeful laughter against her neck. “Love you too.”

* * *

This was the first day in a very long time that Marie was perfectly okay with someone waking her up early. She was pretty sure her dreams had involved something soft and gay, a welcome side-effect of spending most of the evening beforehand cuddling with Faye, and now she got to do that _again_ … it felt so much more intimate in her own bed, a soft and domestic feeling she didn’t realised she’d been yearning until now, and she could almost trick her brain into thinking Faye had been here with her all night. Would she be complaining? Absolutely not.

She could tell from the gentle rhythm of her breath that Faye had drifted back into sleep very soon after she got here – Marie did feel a little guilty for not thinking about the fact that sleeping on the couch would inevitably mean being woken up when Callie made breakfast at such an ungodly hour – and Marie wanted to do the same, but her hearts were beating so fast they made it almost impossible to fall asleep again. It was difficult to tell if it was because of how close she was to Faye right now (crushes _didn’t_ spontaneously vanish once you were in a relationship with the person!?), or because she’d realised a little too late how much more likely Callie was to poke her nose into Marie’s room if Faye was in here with her so early in the morning, and they remained that way for five minutes before her body finally started to calm down and let her stop being in a state of mild panic.

This was… quite nice, actually, now her stupid hearts had slowed back into their regular rhythm. Faye was comfortably warm, a soothing feeling that seemed to surround Marie just from being in her arms, and the best part of all… she was _Faye_. A few months ago, Marie would never have suspected that the stoic and grumpy-looking Agent 3 would be an absolute cuddlebug, as well as the most delightfully affectionate sap in a relationship, but now she _did_ know she was absolutely _living_ for it. Faye was her girlfriend and she could still hardly believe it, but she loved her _so_ _much_.

Soon lulled by the calm and steady tempo of Faye’s heartbeats, Marie ended up drifting in and out of sleep for a while. Eventually, as her consciousness was dragged back to her for the fifth or so time, she could tell Faye was awake now by the feel of her drawing mindless shapes on her back, something which made Marie instinctively nuzzle closer to her, and, embarrassingly, a small giggle threatened to leave her at the sensation. She felt so relaxed and _soft_ and _in_ _love_ and Marie really wished this was how she could wake up _every_ day – or at the very least, that she could cuddle her girlfriend more often.

Well, there was one very easy solution to that last part, at least for while Faye was here. Marie let out a small sigh, removing her face from Faye’s shirt at last and realising she was getting just a little overheated. “I… should tell her.”

“Hmm…?” Faye murmured questioningly, taking in a deep breath and stretching her limbs now she knew Marie was awake.

Marie rolled onto her back instead, pushing the duvet away a little. Wow, she really was getting warm. She made a mental note for next time they cuddled in bed to not have the sheets pulled up so high. “Callie. Might as well get it over with. I have no idea how she’s going to react, but…” She let out a small huff, feeling a smile on her face. “If I have to spend the whole week pretending we’re just close friends whenever she’s in the house, I’m going to go crazy.”

“Ah.” Faye grinned at her, her face half-buried in the pillows in a way that made Marie’s heart melt. “You had a taste of cuddles, and now you can never go back.”

“Oh, shush, you big sappy lesbian,” Marie snorted, moving to kiss her face, and Faye giggled in response. Marie hardly ever heard her _giggle_. It was such an adorable sound. “If I’m not back in ten minutes, come save me from my cousin.”

“Mmkay,” Faye hummed, snuggling deeper into Marie’s bed, and Marie had a feeling that within ten minutes she’d probably be asleep again.

She glanced at the clock as she climbed out of bed – ugh, 8:30? This was _far_ too early for anyone to get up, and Callie had probably already been awake for over an hour – and made the vaguest attempt to flatted down her ruffled hair, flipping the longest tentacles at the sides back over her shoulders just to keep them out of the way because tying them up felt like too much effort right now. Ideally, she wanted to get this over with and then crawl back into bed with Faye, with significantly less anxiety.

The apartment always felt different when she emerged from her room so early, even though there were no windows in the living room so it always looked the same no matter what time of day it was. Callie was sat with her legs pulled up onto the couch as she watched a cartoon on the television, the same as usual, but she looked up in surprise when she saw Marie leave her room. “Good morning! You’re up early.”

“Don’t remind me,” Marie groaned, walking over to drop onto the couch and folding her arms over her stomach. She hadn’t really thought about what she was going to say. Feeling anxious when talking to people was a common thing for her, but it was incredibly rare she had that around Callie.

“Everything alright?” Callie reached over to place a hand on her arm, giving it a small shake. She didn’t seem too concerned.

“Yeah…” Marie stared at the animated characters on screen for a moment, having no clue what was going on in the show. _What the heck. Just bite the bullet already._ “Hey… Cal? I need to… tell you something.”

“Uh-huh?” Callie nodded slowly. Honestly, it would have been less intimidating if she actually _had_ seemed worried something might be wrong.

“Um…” Marie fidgeted nervously for a moment, pushing herself into sitting up. _Oh, just say it. It’s not like she’s going to complain. I hope._ “So, uh… me and Faye are girlfriends?”

She’d expected a big reaction, braced herself for the inevitable excited shriek of surprise Callie might let out, which was what she’d always been afraid of. Instead, Callie just continued nodding for a few seconds, like she expected Marie to keep talking and was confused when she didn’t. “… Oh! Was I supposed to not know that?”

Marie stared at her, her expression probably a mix of bewilderment and fear. “… _Huh_?”

“I mean, I guess you were making a special effort to _not_ tell me,” Callie continued, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “But I thought you just kind of assumed you didn’t need to, so…?”

“Wait, wait,” Marie waved her hands a little. _This is not how I expected this conversation to go at all._ “You _knew_? _How_?”

“Well, you’ve been super close for months now, you’ve been on like, multiple dates, she looks at you like she’s totally in love with _you_ too now, you invited her to stay over which you _never_ do, ever.” Callie counted her reasons off on her fingers. “You didn’t _deny_ that you were totally dating when I joked about it last night, you didn’t get mad at her or anything for waking you up this morning – also I _may_ have checked to make sure she hadn’t, like, passed out on your floor or anything earlier, and you two were like, totally snuggling in bed, it was adorable. There’s _no_ _way_ you would do that unless she was your girlfriend.”

Marie inadvertently let out what was probably a pathetic whiny noise, covering her face with her hands in embarrassment – which only made Callie laugh. So, her fears had been true after all, and Callie _had_ seen them. She wanted to sink through the floor. “I hate you,” she eventually managed to mumble.

“It’s not _my_ fault you’re _really_ _bad_ at pretending to not be in love!” Callie gave her a gentle shove, and Marie could imagine she would’ve been pouting at her if it wasn’t for the way she was still laughing. “… How long has it been?”

“What?” Marie dropped her hands into her lap, knowing she wasn’t likely to live down her shame any time soon.

“Y’know. How long have you been dating?”

“Oh. Like… two weeks.”

“Hmm.” Callie gave another thoughtful look. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“Sounds about—what does _that_ mean?”

“I think that’s when that one time was, when you returned after your lunch break, and you were like, all _smiley_ and you kept doing that happy sigh thing I’ve never seen you do before—”

“Oh my _cod_ , Callie, shut up.” Marie returned her shove in a much-less-gentle way, pushing herself up from the couch before Callie could decide to fight back. Her cheeks felt like they were burning, and she was sure Callie was _very_ amused by how blue she had become. “I’m not staying here to be tormented by you. I’m going back to bed.”

“Okay! Have fun.” Callie gave a cheeky grin. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Callie, if you keep this up I _will_ go over there and I _will_ kick you.”

“Ah, but you won’t, because time wasted kicking me is time you _could_ use for kissing your girlfriend.”

Marie glared at her cousin and flipped her off, which only made Callie’s giggle fit stronger.

Making the final decision to not indulge her any more, Marie returned to her room, fighting the urge to close the door harsher than necessary behind her for dramatic effect. She wasn’t mad at Callie, no matter how annoying her cousin could be at times. Despite her earlier assumption, Faye was sat up on the mattress when she returned, the prior sleepiness in her eyes replaced with a slightly worried look. She must have heard the slightly raised voices and was concerned the discussion had gone badly.

“Apparently she already figured it out and I’m just really bad at hiding what a lesbian I am,” Marie said with a tired laugh, smiling as she threw herself back into bed. Never again would she willingly get up this early.

“Oh. Nice.” Faye’s ears twitched. “So… cuddles are legal now?”

Marie rolled her eyes, holding out her arms. “Come here.”

Faye beamed, flopping down next to her and seeking out a new comfortable position to cuddle up to her in, lazily throwing her injured arm over Marie’s stomach and burying her face in the crook of her neck. Marie smiled softly, laying her arms across the back of Faye’s shoulders, enjoying the closeness and how much less uneasy she felt now that she’d taken care of the one big stepping-stone in their way.

 _I could ask Faye if she wants to sleep here with me instead of on the sofa while she’s staying._ Marie felt a new blush warm her cheeks at the thought, but she also knew she struggled enough to fall asleep when she first went to bed _without_ another person sharing her sleeping space, so that would probably be a direct ticket to setting off her insomnia. She would absolutely love sleepy morning cuddles like this to be a regular thing, though, if Faye was alright with that.

For the next week, at least. Then Faye would return to staying at the cabin again, and Marie knew she would be sad to see her go. She very much wished she could ask her to stay here, but other than the fact that it was probably far too soon in their relationship for that, and she didn’t want to force such a change on Callie either, she’d certainly run into issues with her landlord for it – this place wasn’t made for more than two people. Perhaps Faye might trust her enough now to accept her help in getting a place of her own, but that wasn’t a question for right this second. They were comfortable and sleepy and she didn’t want to do anything that could ruin this moment.

Whether she would accept the aid or not… Marie still felt a surge of affection for Faye at how far she’d come in the past few months. Maybe not a lot had changed, and in some cases things had definitely become worse, but she could tell that Faye had really been trying her best; she was so much different now than the person who had snapped at her back in January just for sharing her concerns with her cousin.

Marie closed her eyes, placing a gentle kiss on Faye’s forehead and smiling at the sleepy murmur she gave in response. Maybe things weren’t _perfect_ now, and maybe it would be a long time before they were, but… that was okay. No matter what life threw at them, she would be here to support Faye, and she knew it was mutual.

As long as they had that… she knew they’d both be alright in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lesbiance :]
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who read the story and extra special thanks to anyone who left comments!! It feels like I blinked and like 4 months passed and the fact that the whole story is now up feels wild to me.. I hope you all enjoyed the read!
> 
> I was a little worried about the reception it might get purely because of Margin being an Extremely morally grey protagonist/antagonist fhsjkf sorry to anyone who thinks she should've had more repercussions for her actions (she and Miles never become like super close again despite what this chapter kind of implied.. he's been through enough and she needs. a lot of therapy probably). It was fun to write tho and I'm glad there was such a positive response!! This story gained hits & comments a lot faster than MM did and I'm still kind of amazed, thank you all so much !! :D
> 
> As to where the series goes from here I have no idea currently, there might not be another super long fic like this but there might be small oneshots or multi-chapter fics, I don't currently know if or where I'm going to move the series to also? But when I find out I'll add a link here and I'll probably also post on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/RecedingTides) when I do, so follow me there for updates (and sometimes art) if you want ?? I guess ???
> 
> Anyway I hope you all have a lovely day !! The End

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Fresh Air](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27624149) by [PeppermintTides](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeppermintTides/pseuds/PeppermintTides)




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